Motion on a fourth dimensional plane
by tru7h nd 0rd3r
Summary: A soldier from the year 2145 suddenly find himself at HinataSou, where he will learn more about its residents, and perhaps a bit about himself.
1. Firefight

**Motion on a fourth dimensional plane**

Note: Well, I never saw this coming - me, writing fanfiction for Love Hina. Usually, I write (exclusively) for Halo, but given a long series of blocks and inability to think 'Halo', I began writing this, adding on every time I couldn't write for Halo. This idea came together after several revisions and ideas, inspirations from other works in the Love Hina section, and the trailer for Battlefield: 2142. After a long period of time, I've now decided to get this out.

I apologize for the overall length of this 'chapter' (chapter, my ass - 23 pages in MS Word). I went a little overboard with the details, and it sounds more like an original piece, but it eventually gets there. Assuming I have time, I'll keep up with this one. Also, seeing how I have finished my exams (Physics blows) and how my summer has just began, I figure I can do some more writing, so I will write to the best of my ability for either this or my Halo writing.

Enough - let's get this behemoth over with.

* * *

Chapter 1: Firefight 

The armored personnel carrier's engine was surprisingly quiet. Its lack of sound was covered up by the beats of ancient rock music playing through a set of hastily installed speakers. Some genius in the 143rd Mechanized Infantry Division had the idea of putting audio devices inside the APCs and playing rock music to 'motivate' the soldiers. Three of the seven other soldiers, part of my squad, inside the APC rocked slightly, as though keeping to the beat of the music. The others, including myself, didn't even bother. We've been through enough to know that motivation only comes from basic instinct.

The date was November 12, 2145, three years after the start of The War. Funny, we still didn't have a name for this conflict. Historians were preparing to call it the Eastern European War, the Eurasian War, or hypothetically speaking, the Fourth World War, since the third was pretty much agreed on to be Cold War back in the 20th century, or the War on Terrorism in the early 21st, but for the soldiers, we simply dubbed it 'The War.' There wasn't much thought to it – on one side, the Commonwealth of Democratic Nations, and on the other, the Eurasian Bloc. They are the two largest military alliances on the planet, both with lots of soldiers and a strangely apparent need to take over the world after a whole series of unfortunate incidents occurring worldwide following the turn of the century.

I don't exactly know what the hell happened on the twenty-third of June, 2142. We say they fired first, and I'm sure they are saying the opposite, but war broke out, and now soldiers were running around in all corners of the globe shooting each other.

A week ago, command sent us out after realizing they needed to establish a new front, starting at the Bloc controlled Japan, and entering into Siberia and China. The purpose was to put pressure on the Bloc from this new front. From there, we could take the largest urban centers closest to the Sea of Japan in either China or Japan and give our bombers, as well as infantry, a good set of bases to operation from. We had landed via a massive air drop into the Chiba Prefecture in the Greater Tokyo Area and began taking ground easily, either encountering scattered Bloc soldiers or practically no resistance at all. We thought we had it easy, until we entered the capital city of the region, Chiba.

We were deep inside the city when an IED detonated next to our convoy and killed one of our guys. Then the entire place lit up, Bloc soldiers and civilians allied to the Bloc opened fire, having waited for some signal to fight. That IED was it, and the firefight had begun. One of the guys was hit with a burst from a .70 Cal anti-infantry round and died moments later, and another took heavy fire, was wounded severely when a rifle slug pierced his ankle and immobilized him long enough for Bloc soldiers to finish him off.

We still managed to take the city. Officially, the Commonwealth Military Command's informal after action review said we had done so with 'minimal casualties.' True, we lost only those three in exchange for over two hundred Bloc infantry casualties and taking the entire city, but it still troubles me somewhat. I knew those guys, and it feels strange, to know that one minute, I was talking to them about normal day-to-day life, and the next minute, they were gone, and that I would have to call for three new soldiers.

I tried not to think about it. It was bad enough to lose them, but it felt even worse to think about losing them, and what role _I_ played in their deaths.

"_Sierra-6, this is Convoy-Charlie, can you get a fix on Bravo?"_

"_Negative, no sign of Bravo. They could be hiding in all these buildings for all we know. Streets look clear though."_

"_No shit? That's what we thought about Chiba and the whole place was fucking crawling with Bravo."_

'Echo Bravo' or simply, 'Bravo' was the name we gave to the soldiers of the Eurasian Bloc, and 'E' and 'B' corresponding to the 'Echo' and 'Bravo.'

We were in a typical urban environment, a playground for urban warfare. After capturing the Chiba and Saitama Prefectures, we are now moving onto the Kanagawa Prefecture, while another group, Convoy-Alpha, was going to move north. If we could all move fast enough, we can take all of the Greater Tokyo Area and reinforce it for more forces to arrive, and use it as a staging ground for follow-up operations.

Convoy-Charlie was the name for our group, and we consisted of four eight man infantry squads, supported by APCs and a pair of tanks. Above us, operating as command and intelligence for the operations in the area was Sierra-6, a spy satellite that command used to coordinate the offensive. Other than that, we were well armed and ready to fight anything that got in our way.

I looked at the other soldiers inside the APC, 2nd Squad – _my_ squad. I had earned the right to command them long ago. We were all dressed in the Commonwealth's standard combat uniforms, consisting of thick layers of soft armor and insulation, with the outer-most layer patterned in urban disruptive camouflage, with dark armored plating covering our upper torso, shoulders, forearms, elbows, knees, and shins. Our helmets were complete with face masks and a pair of large goggles that doubled as eye protection and a computer heads up display, covered our faces, and provided us with an unnervingly machine-like appearance. Because of the way our equipment covered every bit of skin and flesh, we looked more like robots than human. The equipment wasn't there just for show, however – it actually worked, our armor able to withstand high powered rifle rounds and fragmentations, and our HUDs provided us with an extensive array of tactical data and information.

Better yet, all of that was just on the outside. Inside, buried beneath our skin existed a range of nanites, nanomachines, and implants that only furthered our ability to wage war.

Despite the superior equipment, fighting the Bloc was still troublesome. The problem here was how those allied with the Bloc, and the Bloc themselves, never fought us in the open. In Japan, they preferred to lie in wait until we came to them, and only then would we all fight. This made progress slower than it should have been, and kept us uneasy for long stretches of time.

The APC lumbered along, part of a convoy sweeping through the area. Radio chatter was at a minimum. There wasn't anything out there. So far, this was a cake run.

Cue in the sudden and unexpected IED detonation and weapons fire.

In a single instant, everything blurred as we all leapt into action. Shouting filled the radio channels, updated tactical data scrolled by on our HUDs.

"Get out of the APC! Go, go, Go!" I barked, pointing towards the rear doors.

We quickly and promptly poured out. The adrenaline kicked in when the IED detonated, and everything was reduced to a blur. My hands shook slightly, not enough to make me drop my rifle. As soon as I was out of the APC, my mind instantly set itself to 'soldier.'

There were more explosions, one to the front of the convoy and another to the rear. They had to be the tanks. We're now pinned down in the middle of a street without our tanks, sitting ducks with our APCs.

"Squad, get to cover! Get clear of the APC!" I shouted. The eight soldiers under my command acknowledged and broke to find cover. We found it in between an alleyway. Moments later, an RPG came almost out of nowhere and took out the APC. As we took cover there, I finally noticed the surrounding area.

A thick blanket of snow covered the area, and lazy flakes of snow drifted down from the sky. It was the end of November, and the snowfall was strangely full for the season. My HUD reported a temperature of about -24º C, quite chilly if not for my suit regulating my temperature.

"Where's the fuck's the fire coming from!" a soldier on my squad shouted frantically, looking around in shock.

Taking up a position next to a corner, I peered out at the firefight. Working with both what I was seeing and with an updated map, I spotted where some of the fire was coming from.

"I've got a visual on multiple squads of Bravo, down the street, reinforcing from around the corner, location unknown, light firearms, and at 9 o'clock, apartment building balcony, fifth floor, assorted firearms and possible AT" I reported. I summarized the information and sent it via ICON, the Integrated Command and Objective Network, our battlefield communications network, to all friendly units on the street and around us.

I peered out, watching the muzzle flashes from both down the street and from the apartment building. There was a thicker smoke and fire from the apartment, meaning they probably had at least a mounted machine gun up there. I switched to thermal vision, and I picked them out like black on white.

They were the immediate threat. They had the height advantage, and if left alone, they could fire down on us quite easily.

"Fire sector, on the balcony!" I ordered, pointing towards the source of the enemy fire.

Our IW52 bullpup assault rifles fired caseless 6.8mm depleted uranium rounds, a great balance between rate of fire, stopping power, and armor piercing capabilities. In addition, the IW52 also carried a 20mm shotgun-style 'utility launcher,' called so only because it was not just firing grenades, but also shotgun shells, specialized rounds, or 20mm devices. With our communications and protection capabilities already at a higher level, we needed a weapon to match and the IW52 was the result.

My squad moved into position and we began to fire, peppering the small floor of the apartment building with depleted uranium rounds. The dense and heavy bullets simply tore through the concrete walls around the area, but it still wasn't enough. Gunfire burst out from the balcony at our position, and we were lucky to have pulled back behind cover soon enough.

The Bloc favored using an unusually large 14.5x60mm round, and an even larger and older fashioned self loading rifle. Their magazines carried about twenty rounds less than ours, were three kilograms heavier, had a fire rate restricted to semiautomatic, and had enough kickback to dislocate a jaw or shoulder, if held inappropriately. In spite of its shortcomings, it made it up with power and power alone. In addition, Bloc troops also favored a heavier barreled, fully automatic variant that they loved to mount in open windows.

From the sounds of the fire, they had at least one of those on the balcony, and it was raining down on us.

"We've got to get some frags in there!" I ordered, pointing to two soldiers, then to the balcony. I signaled the others to cover them. Popping back out of cover only temporarily, we opened fire yet again.

I shouldered my weapon and lined up the red targeting reticule that was displayed on my HUD with the area of the balcony and the Bloc soldiers fortifying it. As I exhaled, I squeezed off a pair of bursts, watching as the bullets impacted around the area of the balcony. A new display appeared, and it updated the number of bullets I had left in my magazine.

"Frags out, on three – one, two, _three_!"

The two soldiers leaned out and each fired a 20mm fragmentation grenade set on a timer into the balcony with use of their utility launchers. Five seconds later after they landed, a sharp explosion filled the air, and the balcony was reduced to nothing but debris and smoke.

I slightly hit the side of my helmet shortly after the explosion. My ears were ringing, and the sound and force of the explosion still stayed with me. It was an overwhelming feeling, one that I never truly got rid of even after training. I brought up an electrocardiogram on my HUD and noticed an increase in my pulse. The adrenaline created in the midst of the IED attack and the Bloc ambush had got me going.

It wasn't going to stop just yet – this fight was still continuing. Gunfire continued to sound, and like the Sirens of Homer's Odyssey drawing sailors to their deaths, the gunfire drew us closer into battle.

"_Convoy-Charlie, this is Sierra-6, does anybody copy, over? What's your status, over?"_

I heard it first. I turned my radio on and sent a reply.

"This is Sergeant Randall, 2nd Squad, we read you" I replied. "We're taking hostile fire, and our convoy is pinned down, over."

"_Roger that, Sergeant, we're sending additional ground support, ETA, five minutes. We've confirmed the fortified building where Bravo's reinforcing from. I'm sending a waypoint to you now. You've got to take the building; there may be enough intel inside there to help with future operations."_

A waypoint then appeared on my HUD. I cross-checked it with my map, and figured out exactly where it was and what type of building it was. It was farther down the street, and then a left turn across a bridge and from there past a choke of tight streets was the fortified building.

I looked at the map and noted how big the building was. It sprawled across a large area, connected from here to there by a single bridge. The bridge was an obvious kill zone, made possible from the buildings looking towards it, and the fortified building itself was undoubtedly heavily protected and would require anything short of carpet bombing to take it out.

On the other hand, it would be a great rally point for us and a base of operations in the area, assuming we could capture it without being shot up.

"What is that building, Sergeant?" a soldier asked me, the same tactical data being sent to all our HUDs. "Looks like a mansion or a castle to me."

True, it did. The size and scale of the entire structure suggested so. I pulled up some more information from anything ICON had access to in the local area. Luckily, there was some info about the building.

"It's a hotel, or an inn or some sort," I said, notifying the rest of my squad. "'Hinata Inn', from what I'm digging up."

"For fucks sake, I hope its five star" one of my squad mates said in response to the new information. I supposed I would hope so as well. I looked back at the diagrams and maps. Interestingly enough, the buildings in that area was older fashioned. In place of metal and concrete, most of the buildings were still wood. It was a little piece that intrigued me.

"_This is 3rd Squad! To any friendly units, we're pinned down, I repeat, we're pinned down by Bravo, next to the bridge! We're taking fire from multiple directions! We need immediate assistance, I repeat, immediate assistance!"_

"This is 2nd Squad, I read you," I replied quickly. "We're en route, hold on."

I dropped all everything of what I was thinking just prior and signaled to my squad to move out. Our destination was down the street where 3rd Squad was pinned down at. We split up into two four man fire teams and moved on, leapfrogging up the street. We needed to reach 3rd Squad as quick as possible. From the sounds of the gunfire, they were being shot at quite a bit, and could be overrun in moments.

My HUD picked up their Squad leader's IFF tags, placing his location inside of a corner store open to the street level. Staying close to the wall, my squad and I moved in closer, until I was close enough to knock on the side of the store's window.

"Friendlies! This is 2nd Squad!" I yelled.

Bullets then snapped by, resulting in us ducking for cover. There were more Bloc infantry, even farther down the street. As they came into full view, I opened fire, watching as bursts of depleted uranium rounds cut them down. The exchange of fire only happened briefly before we moved into the safety of the corner store.

The inside of the store had seen better days. Everything was a mess – shelves were knocked over, products were scattered all over the ground, and scattered puddles of blood covered the ground. In addition to 3rd Squad, my IFF tags also indicated that 4th and 5th Squads were also inside.

"Great to see you, 2nd!" 3rd Squad's leader, Sergeant First Class A. McDonald according to his IFF tag, happily greeted. "We were able to pick up the remains of 4th and 5th. IED and a bunch of RPGs took out the rest of their squads."

I looked over at the remains of 4th and 5th – of the eight soldiers assigned in each squad three were left for 4th Squad, and four soldiers remained for 5th, two of them severely injured. 3rd Squad was at full strength, and so was my 2nd Squad.

It was a goddamn mess.

"Get some fire out there on Bravo!" McDonald ordered. I did the same, ordering my guys to set up near the windows and fire on the Bloc infantry just outside.

I fired until the ammunition display on my HUD read empty. My thumb pressed the magazine release and the empty clip slid out from the magazine well. As it did so, I reached into a pouch on my vest and grabbed another magazine, smoothly loading it in and cycling my IW52's bolt. It was a quick process that I did almost unconsciously. It was good, since I could get back into the shooting almost immediately.

"Sergeant, we've got a pair of Walkers coming in!"

As the news broke, a hearty cheer went out amongst the soldiers, including the wounded. I pulled up my updated map and a pair of symbols was displayed moving up the street we were originally on.

I cheered out as well. We had every reason to cheer out. The MCU77 or 'Walker' was a twelve meter tall bipedal tank, and it was the core component to any combat mission the Commonwealth embarked upon. Fitted into its thick armor plated hull were a pair of multi-barreled, rapid fire .70 Cal machine guns, also complemented by a series of smaller guns fitted above and below its body. It was also fitted with rocket pods, and a pair of high velocity cannons for long range work against hardened targets.

Due to the legs it walked on, it was highly mobile, and could go anywhere without being stopped. At the same time, it was a predominantly psychological weapon – if I were a Bloc soldier, and I saw a twelve meter tall tank walking towards me with guns blazing, I would shit myself.

Outside, the relatively mild sounding gunfire was interrupted by a long and ear-splitting burst of fire. I watched in almost morbid curiosity as the Bloc soldiers on the street were torn apart, literally, into bloody ribbons. The ground rumbled as the Walkers came around the corner. I bent my neck up to see the behemoth in its awe-inspiring glory.

There was only one thing better than a Walker – _two_ of them. And that was what we had right now.

"_This is Walker-3-8 to 2nd Squad, we've arrived."_

"We've noticed, 3-8," I replied. "We've got to take the building, the Hinata Inn, but it's heavily fortified."

"_Acknowledged, 2nd Squad; advance up the bridge, we'll move along and provide suppression. We've also got a gunship inbound as well, so you're in good hands."_

"Copy that Walker-3-8, we'll be moving," I replied, excited with the possibility of a gunship also assisting us. "Who's staying with the wounded?"

"Don't worry about us," a soldier on 4th Squad replied. "You and 3rd Squad go ahead; we've called for medivacs, and we'll hold here and wait for 'em."

I acknowledged and signaled my squad to move out, McDonald doing the same. As we moved out, the Walkers took the lead and began to lumber along, firing as they walked along the bridge. We followed closely, staying as close to the legs for cover as possible. I supposed a disadvantage to the Walkers was the lack of cover they provided for infantry when on the move, not like a tank or normal tracked vehicle. I could only hope we wouldn't get shot. That did seem unlikely though, since the Bloc infantry holding positions across the bridge were raining fire on us, but at least the Walkers compensated for it by returning fire. Their endless spray of .70 Cal tore up the smaller buildings, probably taking out machine gun posts set up there as well.

Suddenly, there was a puff of smoke from the roof of one of the buildings, and then the characteristic smoke trail of an antitank missile. It sped its way towards one of the Walker – only to be shot down by a machine gun on its upper body.

The other nice thing about a Walker? The scanners and targeting computers were so precise they could detect incoming missiles, automatically lock onto them and shoot them down before they came close.

The Walkers unleashed a fury of bullets and missiles into the buildings, demolishing them with ease. We continued on with almost no resistance, penetrating farther into the area and closer to the Hinata Inn. It was until we reached the base of a long flight of stairs leading up to the front of the inn when we encountered the heaviest resistance.

"Get to cover! Don't stand out in the open, get your heads down!"

They had machine guns mounted above us. We took whatever cover we could behind the Walkers and let them do to shooting, their multi-barreled machine guns tearing the Bloc troops at the top of the steps apart. The Bloc troops kept up their fire, however. They reorganized as quickly as they could, setting up their weapons and firing down on us. The only thing that stood between them finishing off the rest of us was the pair of Walkers.

Suddenly a magnificent roar broke through in the air. Something came screaming out of the dark grey sky towards the Bloc troops at the top of the steps.

"_This is Golf-1-4-9er, we're coming in hot! Keep your heads down - we're gonna give 'em a haircut!"_

Even before it came into view, I recognized the blocky shape of the AH240 'Seraph' gunship screaming into its attack vector. As it lined itself up, the gunship's rocket pods and cannons ignited, leaving only smoking bits of the Bloc soldiers holding up our progress.

"Come on, let's move! Get up the stairs and get inside the inn!" McDonald shouted at his squad. I did the same, and we were finally moving up the steps.

When we reached the top, more Bloc troops and armed civilians came out of the Hinata Inn's entrance. Our squads stopped and opened fire, mowing down the group with ease. On the second and third stories soldiers attempted to fire on us from above, but their attempt was cut short by the Seraph gunship still hovering in the area.

"Thanks for the assist, Golf-1-4-9er" I spoke over the radio with the pilot.

"_No problem Sergeant, just get your asses inside and kick theirs out."_

"Affirmative, doing so now."

Our squads reached the entrance and slowed down. Fighting outside was one thing, but close quarters combat was another. Our two squads quickly broke into four man fire teams and loaded shotgun shells, door breaching rounds, or flashbangs into our utility launchers. I opted for shotgun shells for the extra close range punch. The preparation process was quick and smooth, and we were already inside in a matter of seconds.

"Entry, clear."

"Damn, this place ain't too bad for a hotel" one of the soldiers on my fire team commented.

"The only thing we need now is beer, ladies, some shit to shut our nanites off, and then we'd have a hotel!" another added, poking fun at the 'limitations' caused by our nanite injections.

"Cut the chatter and watch for Bravo" I said, keeping everybody in the fight. As nice as this inn was, we'll take time to perhaps enjoy it after we've pushed every Bloc soldier out of it.

The entry or lobby, whichever it could be, had two hallways, one to the left and another to the back right corner, and a narrow stairwell right in front of us.

"Sergeant Randall, take your fire teams up the stairs and secure the second floor, we'll take the first" McDonald ordered.

"Got it," I replied. "2nd Squad, form up on me! We're going up."

McDonald and his fire teams moved out to secure the first floor, while my teams and I moved up the stairs. I went first, and everything else followed. Stairways usually freaked me out. Moving up a stairway in the middle of a close quarter's battle provided a whole range of danger and risk.

But, I trusted my team and our training enough to go ahead with it.

"Clear" I reported, continuing to move on.

We were now faced with a hallway with several doors. The walls and doors were all shredded and torn up, complements to the Seraph and its guns. I switched on my thermal vision mode and took a look around, noting several blue body signatures behind the doors. The gunship had done its work.

"Farrell, take point. Let's keep moving people" I ordered, and we continued to move.

Our pacing was slower, but methodical. Our thermal vision was precise, and only found dead bodies. It was until we went around the corner before we picked something up.

"I'm picking up about a half dozen Bravo, second door to our right and another four behind the door on our right" Farrell reported. I saw the same thing. From the looks of their movement inside, they were frantic, trying to reorganize themselves after the gunship attack.

"Breach, flash, and clear, on Zulu" I ordered, pointing to the doors.

I took one fire team to a door and another went to the other. One of the soldiers kept the muzzle of their utility launcher to the door, and we waited.

"Waiting for Zulu" both teams reported.

I looked at our positioning one final time, trying to pick apart anything we were doing wrong and correct it before we would move in. Then again, there wasn't a need to. We were all trained to the best of our abilities. We were ready.

"Zulu, go!"

There was a thunderous boom as the utility launchers fired and breached the doors. Immediately after, the next soldier fired in flashbangs. After the non-lethal grenades detonated in a magnificent flash and deafening bang, we moved in. Once inside, we spread out and cleared out the room.

The Bloc soldiers were stunned by the grenade, which left them to our mercy. I raised my rifle and sent a burst through one of the soldiers, and then another. One of them was running around in circles screaming. I switched to my utility launcher and fired a shotgun shell, watching as the round threw the soldier back, his body crumbling to the gound. It wasn't long before everybody in the room was segregated between us, and the dead.

"Clear!" a soldier breaching the room across from us reported.

I was about to do the same, when I noticed one of the Bloc soldiers in the far back of the room still moving. I then realized there was a grenade in his hand. I raised my rifle again and fired, finishing off the soldier for good. The grenade dropped from his hands and rolled around in the center of the room.

It was armed.

"Grenade, get out of here!" I shouted, pushing my teammates out the room.

I had barely gotten the last soldier out when I felt something slam against me. My back hit the wall, and I could taste blood forming in my mouth. I then slumped to the ground. My arms and chest burned in pain. The pain was extinguished in milliseconds after the nanites in my body administered enhanced painkillers and a whole series of drugs to help me recover.

God bless the drugs.

I opened my eyes and looked around. Bloody bits of arms, body parts, and gore covered the walls. Looking around, I noticed a distinct lack of damage to the room. No wonder – it had to be an improvised, homemade concussion grenade, a poorly constructed one as well. Concussion grenades were designed to kill by explosive force, and they didn't have the fragmentations that would have gutted me. It luckily lacked the explosive force of a military issued concussion grenade, and the best it could do was throw me back in one direction.

It would take more than a homemade bomb to finish me off.

"Sergeant Randall is down, I repeat, Sergeant Randall is down!" one of the soldiers on my fire team shouted in panic. "We need a medic!"

"Relax, I'm fine," I said, standing up, picking up my rifle and briefly checking for any damage. "I'm barely wounded, actually. Come on, let's keep moving-"

I then heard a creak from the floor boards. The creak continued and got louder and louder. One floor board then snapped, and then another, and another. Within moments, the entire floor had collapsed.

And I was falling down with it.

"Sergeant! Grab my hand!" a soldier cried out, throwing his hand out.

I tried to grab it, but I missed. I continued to fall down. As soon as my back hit something, everything blacked out. The frantic cries of my squad echoed and then faded. I groaned in pain and tried to get back up. The drugs were steadying being injected into me, and it helped to a certain amount to get me back up on my feet. I took a moment to take off my face mask and cleaned off the blood, then putting it back on. As soon as I did, I looked around, trying to make sense of where I landed.

But as I looked around, I realized something was wrong. The place I landed in was all dark, and was eerily silent. When we entered the building, I could still hear gunfire, but now, everything was quiet. I just fell down from the second floor, and logically, I fell to somewhere on the first floor.

Looking up, I realized the ceiling was in perfect condition, as though no part of it broke or was in any danger of falling apart.

Where the hell was I? Didn't I just fall from one floor down to the next? If so, then where the hell am I?

"2nd Squad, this is Sergeant Randall, does anybody copy, over?"

No response.

"Sergeant Randall to 2nd Squad, if anybody can hear me, please reply, over? Can anybody hear me?"

Again, no response.

Was my radio damaged in the fall? I took my helmet off and checked the equipment. No, it was fine. The radio was in working condition and my HUD was still operational. Our equipment wouldn't fail like this. I tried more channels, but I found nothing. I pulled up my HUD and tried to locate my squad.

I found nothing.

I felt a strange feeling build up in my stomach when that realization kicked in. This shouldn't be happening. My equipment could pick up a friendly IFF tag from a kilometer underground past reinforced concrete and steel, but it couldn't find one now?

I couldn't connect to anything – 2nd or 3rd Squad, ICON, the pair of Walkers outside, or even Sierra-6.

I looked around once more. This was making no sense at all. Well, one way or the other, I would find out. I checked my HUD once again, bringing up the display of the mission tracker, a utility that our HUDs used to keep track of where and how far we've moved on a mission. It was there to help with making after action reviews, but it also provided a rough map of where we've been walking. I know for sure it kept track of me leaving base, riding in the APC and then crossing the bridge, fighting through town and entering the Hinata Inn. Strangely, all of that was gone. It was now tracking where I was moving now. It was as though everything before didn't even happen.

It had to be a mechanical malfunction for sure. Those eggheads at Commonwealth Advanced Research and Development would shit themselves if I reported this type of equipment failure in.

The location I was in was a long and dimly lit hallway. The design of the old wood paneling on the walls suggested it was Japanese. This point disturbed me further. My equipment failure still didn't account for why, after falling one floor down, I appeared in a completely different area.

I brought my rifle up and carefully moved along. First thing's first, I needed to figure out just where the hell I was, and then from there, maybe find out what happened.

I moved along carefully, looking around and checking around me. I then came upon a strange looking panel of wood. It looked…uneven. I touched it, and realized it could move. I moved it away with ease, and realized it was a trapdoor, covering the entrance to a tunnel.

So far so good, I suppose.

I crawled in, the tunnel being large enough for both my equipment and I, and moved along. Strange, it felt as though it was going up. It worried me a bit, since the tunnel seemed as though it was carved out of solid brick and ground. And assuming I ended up on the first floor, it now appears as through I ended up even farther down.

Again, this was making no sense, along with everything else that has happened since I have fallen. I stopped thinking about it, for the sake of my own already tampered sanity.

I continued on until I reached a dead end. Well, it wasn't a dead end. I poked the muzzle of my rifle forward and opened it. Turns out, it was a covering. I pushed it aside and slipped out of the tunnel.

I raised my weapon and scanned the area. No hostiles.

Wait, something was wrong.

I looked around the area once again. This place was a kitchen, evident from the oven and all the rest. In the center of the room was a large table. But then again, something was off about the place.

It was too clean.

This place is in the middle of a war, and yet it seems as though this place was cleaned on a regular basis – a definite far cry from what soldiers during wartime would do. I covered my eyes slightly from the sunlight coming in from the window looking into the kitchen.

Wait…sunlight? Wasn't it the middle of winter outside? Outside _here_, it seemed like spring or fall.

As I walked forward a bit, I then noticed something on the table. Getting a closer look, I realized it was a magazine or book of some sort. It was one of the older types, still bound together in the older fashion, rather than the usual digital and electronic devices. The writing on it was in Japanese. I engaged my HUD's translator, and quickly skimmed it. It was nothing of importance – just some random magazine of some sorts.

I then found the date printed on the magazine. I recoiled in shock.

1999.

1999.

1999?

Today, according to what I know, backed up by my HUD, is November 12, 2145.

2145.

It then clicked together – why I wasn't able to contact my unit or anything else, why everything around me is so different – I just traveled one hundred and forty-six years back in time.

No, it was impossible. Time travel doesn't exist. It's impossible. It can't be done.

146 years – from 2145 back to 1999.

What was going on? What's happening? All I did was fall down a broken floor. I didn't break any laws of physics or anything.

Why the hell am I here? What, how…?

I looked around, unsure of what the do. I couldn't describe what I was feeling. This was simply, and utterly impossible. I was trained for everything else; I knew how to react in any type of situation that required quick thought and action.

But time travel? Just what the hell was going on?

I then heard a door slide open. It was the door just next to me, one entering into the kitchen. My instincts kicked in – I quickly turned around, lowered myself into a combat stance, and pointed my rifle at the door.

It was a little girl.

She was young, probably a junior high student, and she was wearing a green dress with a long sleeved light purple shirt underneath. Her short blue hair matched her big blue eyes, and only compounded her diminutive size and frame.

She eyes were widened in both shock and fear – caused either by the large assault rifle I was pointing at her, my robotic and machine-like appearance, or a combination of both.

I slowly lowered my rifle and lifted a hand, trying to at least symbolize that I wasn't going to hurt her. She backed away a bit, holding herself in fear. I switched on an external microphone and set it to project my voice in Japanese. It wasn't exactly necessary – I know how to read, speak, and listen to Japanese. Hell, it was the reason I was singled out of hundreds of other soldiers and selected to deploy into Japan in the first place.

"It's okay," I said, slowly and carefully, trying to sound as gentle as possible. "I'm not going to hurt you."

I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. I never dealt with children – ever. Worse, I never dealt with children from another time era. In training we were to tell the civilians to 'get the hell out of the way,' and keep moving. What the hell am I supposed to now?

I unconsciously took a step forward. It was an instinct, done after finding a civilian, to move in a secure them. I didn't notice myself doing that. Apparently she did.

The little blue haired girl ran off screaming.

"Wait, stop!" I yelled, and ran after her.

What the hell was I doing? I should have stayed where I was, I should have retreated back to the tunnel, I should have done something, other than chase after her. What am I supposed to do!

As I went through the door, I entered into a dining room or something. It had a large table and chairs, and seemed adequate for serving a good number of people. I managed to corner the little girl here. She was scared and cowered away in a corner of the dining room.

This shouldn't be happening. I was approaching her as though she was a hostile. This was only made so by my assault rifle.

"Listen, could you stop for a second?" I said, keeping my voice level. "I'm not going to hurt you; I need to ask you some questions, just to get my bearings straight."

I pulled out the sling on my rifle and slung my weapon out in front of me, letting it hang free. I raised both hands, hopefully trying to show that I came in peace.

It still wasn't working. She tried to make a break for it, but I immediately moved in her way and kept her cornered. The girl was trapped in the corner.

This wasn't right. I shouldn't be doing this to a kid. No wonder she was scared of me – there was nothing more frightening than a big, evil looking soldier keeping her trapped and cornered.

"You have no reason to be scared of me; I'm not here to hurt you."

I then did the only thing possible to calm her down. I reached for my helmet locks and disengaged them, my HUD shutting off and the chin straps retracting. I lifted my helmet off and set it on the ground, and I then proceeded to pull down my face mask. Keeping both hands in the air, I looked at the girl and smiled.

"See? I'm not scary," I said, speaking in Japanese. "I'm not going to hurt you."

She looked at me with curious eyes, part of her easing up. My helmet only reinforced a faceless and emotionless robotic image that was usually associated with Commonwealth soldiers. Without it, I was a normal, nondescript, and uninspiring everyday person in bulky armor.

I walked closer, kneeling down only a foot and a half away from her, keeping my hands in the air. She was still uneasy, but compared to before, this was a huge improvement.

"Don't worry, you're safe," I said, reminding her that I came in peace. "I'm not going to hurt-"

I then felt something next to my neck. It hovered millimeters from my skin, but I could feel it as though it was in direct contact. I stopped, freezing where I was.

"Get up."

The voice was feminine, but it had a rough, harsh, and defensive tone. I slowly got to my feet, also keeping my hands in the air, just to be safe.

"Turn around."

I did as I was told. When I did, I was met with the sight of another girl. She was dressed in a red and white kimono, or some other type of Japanese clothing. She was defiantly older, and unlike the child, this one had long, silky black hair that extended past her shoulders. She had some type of classical beauty to her, but as far as I can tell, that was being pushed aside by a pair of pissed off eyes. In her hands was a sword, a katana to be politically correct, and she held it next to my neck. The manner of which she held her weapon suggested she wasn't some random civilian using whatever they could find to defend themselves – I was dealing with a potentially highly skilled individual.

This worried me in a way. At close quarters, the most anybody I've encountered in a fight knew about close quarter's battle was how to use their rifle as a club, which I am able to subdue easily.

"Speak! Who are you! What are you doing, threatening little children!"

"I'm not threatening her, I was just trying to calm her down, ma'am" I replied, explaining it as best I could. It was rather difficult to do so when she had a sword at my neck.

The swordswoman gritted her teeth, getting angrier as time passed.

"Liar! You are nothing but a common criminal, breaking into a residence and preying on small, defenseless children!"

I needed to do something. If this 'interrogation' kept up, I would end up being skewered by her sword. I quickly examined the situation. It would be risky, but then again, it could be worth doing so.

I snapped my left hand forward and grabbed the back of the katana. I then stepped back, reaching one hand back to draw my sidearm. I finished off by pushing her sword down and away from myself, and thrusting the muzzle of my sidearm in front of her face.

Her eyes looked into mines, shocked over what I had done. I had her at my mercy. I then registered what I had done – something that I neglected when I first thought of it. Technically speaking, I had eighteen 10mm hollow-point rounds in my magazine, but as of now, I have no ammo in my clip.

If this truly is 146 years in the past, this meant I can't use any amount of force on anybody – including her. I don't know the physics behind time travel and all that, but even I'm not stupid enough to know that if I do something – anything to defend myself that may result in injuring or worse, killing, another individual – I could potentially change the future.

I don't know what it would specifically change, but changing the timeline was a bad thing that I couldn't afford to do.

In the end, I was powerless. At best, I could only use my weapon to intimidate my opponent, or if I'm lucky enough to load the stun rounds for either my sidearm or rifle, I could possibly then use my weapons. For the moment, if she knew this was nothing more than a bluff, I was finished.

"Put the sword down" I calmly said to her.

Her gaze was filled with hate and defiance. Our eyes met, and I could only pray that she couldn't see through me and realize that I wasn't actually going to shoot.

"Put the sword down, ma'am," I repeated, keeping calm and trying to make myself unreadable. "I will use force, if necessary, to protect myself."

I lightly rested my finger on the trigger. If I was lucky, I could get her to put the sword down. But that was only 'if.'

She looked into my eyes, her expression then changing. It went from simple anger to delight. What would she be so happy about, unless…

She then slid her sword out from the hand holding it down, and raised it into the air. I moved back, keeping my weapon pointed at her. If this was to normally happen, I would shoot, but in this case, I had no ability to.

And she just figured that out.

The swordswoman then screamed something in Japanese, something I couldn't pick up, and then swung her katana in my direction.

The blade wasn't even close to me, but then I felt something press against my chest. I then noticed waves of air flowing around. It multiplied quickly, and before I could realize that her weapon had just pushed me back even when it wasn't close to me, my back had already touched the wall behind me and I was flying.

Actually, I was sent flying out of the damn building.

I landed somewhere down below. My armor softened the landing a bit, but I could still feel the impact. I groaned in pain as I got back up. As I did, I heard the swordswoman scream again. I saw a flash of red and white as she leapt gracefully out of the window.

She was flying straight at me.

I rolled out of the way, her sword slicing into the ground. Even if it missed me, the force of the blade still sent me flying away, again.

Christ, what was in that thing?

She continued her onslaught, much to my misfortune. Each time she swung her katana, it sent me flying. Was there some logical explanation as to why it even does that?

I had to get away from it. I got back up to my feet and ran. Actually, I only ran about a meter before she swung again and sent me flying yet again. I continued to run, but as I did, I noticed where I was. This section of Hinata Inn's exterior seemed familiar.

Of course it did. It was the area around its main entrance.

In spite of the old design of the inn, it was still a formidable structure. It was a strange feeling though, seeing it now. The last I saw of it, the entire place was being torn apart by the gunship in the midst of winder and being stormed by our squads and taking out the Bloc soldiers inside.

Now, it was a nice day outside and the building was intact and at its prime.

Déjà vu doesn't even begin to describe the feeling. Nor does it help at all when I'm trying to run away from a mad swordswoman with a katana able to direct wind and air around.

I ran for the entrance, opening the door and running inside. It was a snap decision, but it couldn't possibly be so bad. It was certainly better than running out into the rest of the world beyond the inn, with weapons and armor that hasn't even been invented yet, for all to see.

Once inside, I made for the stairs and got to the second floor. I needed to lose her. I ran through the long hallways trying to stay as far as possible, or at least move in enough of a random path so that she couldn't follow me. I then found myself on what seemed like a balcony. I slowly walked out, checking my corners and sides.

It overlooked most of the area, and interestingly, there was a round wooden tub in the center of it. Come to think about it, it wasn't much of a balcony, but something else. I walked over to the edge and looked around. To the right, it looked overtop of an outdoor hot springs.

This place actually wasn't too bad. It had a rustic, old-fashioned feel to it. I suppose it was a change of pace from the usual cold, damp, and metallic feel of the military bases. Assuming I could lay low for awhile, I might actually be able to enjoy this place.

I then felt that feeling again – the same one anybody would get when there's a sword hovering next to your neck.

"Turn around, fiend!"

She was here, even more pissed off than before. I didn't want to guess how she was able to follow me, but needless to say, I underestimated her. She now stood before me with her blade drawn and ready to kill.

There was only one thing to do.

I knocked her blade away and jumped over the balcony and onto the roof down below. I then jumped off of that and into the hot strings. Behind me were the doors that led into the building. I had to move quickly now – get inside the building and find a way to place to hunker down for a moment.

I reached for the door and quickly slid it open. I glanced behind me - the swordswoman had jumped down to resume her chase.

I snapped my head back in front and I was ready to run.

Until I noticed there was a woman right in front of me. Actually, there were _two_ women.

The first looked about seventeen or eighteen, and had long, light brown hair, complemented by two long pieces that stood above her head like a pair of antenna. Her dark hazel eyes stared at me in absolute and utter shock. There wasn't any other way to actually describe her – she was just naturally beautiful. The other girl looked slightly older and had short grey hair, almost like a tomboy, but her buxom and curvaceous figure suggested otherwise. What made her intriguing were her eyes – how they were half closed, as though she was tired or laid back. Her peculiar eyes brought the imagery of a fox to my mind.

They stared at me, and I stared back. They were both stunningly gorgeous, the type of women I could only dream about, assuming I'm even that lucky. Had it not been for behavior modifying nanites and injections, I would have remained motionless and done nothing but stared at the beautiful pair for ages.

But because of those nanites and injections, I then realized that all they were wearing nothing but towels. Essentially, there were two gorgeous, beautiful, and _naked_, ladies in front of me.

The long haired girl then realized that as well. Her expression changed from shock, to confusion, and then it hit varying shades of pure, unshackled, and unrestricted anger.

"PERVERT!"

She raised her fist and promptly threw a punch straight at me. I had barely enough time to brace myself before her fist contacted against my face.

…

I remember three separate occasions where I have gotten punched, or was involved in a fistfight. First was when I was a kid, against a neighborhood bully. The next was in basic training, against another recruit. The third was in battle, when my clip ran empty and I got into a fistfight with a Bloc soldier who tried to jump me with a bayonet. All of them, I had walked out victorious with only minor injuries. They all punched hard, but I punched harder. I could always remember the amount of force they brought with them into the fight, and the sheer bedlam that developed during the struggle. There wasn't anything fanciful or poetic about a fistfight – it was about throwing as many punches and making sure as many of them hit vital areas as quick as possible.

Compared to the single punch this girl threw at me, all those, and all rules and thought regarding a fistfight meant absolutely _nothing_.

To say her punch was strong was a severe understatement. I had no chance at all. The punch simply knocked everything right out of me. My vision blurred out as her fist hit my face. I could barely make out the color of the sky above me, and the motion in my stomach suggested that it had sent me flying. I then landed...somewhere. I could feel warm water splash against my face and head. I must have landed in the hot springs. It was strangely comfortable, actually.

I quickly recovered and rolled out of the way just as I heard the swordswoman yell and come down on me with her blade. I got back up and tried to raise my weapon, but I got hit again – by the naked, long haired girl – and was sent flying. My back hit a wall this time, and I struggled to keep steady.

I dodged another slash from the swordswoman, and I suppose I was lucky enough to roll beneath the long haired girl's right hook. This was getting out of hand. At this rate, I'd be beaten more than a prisoner-of-war. Enough was enough – I had to get the hell out of here.

As I rolled away and tried to put some distance between myself and the two women, I reached into a pouch and pulled out a flashbang round. The grenades used in our utility launchers were also designed to work standalone as regular munitions. I pressed and held the rubber base of the round, normally where the firing pin would penetrate and both arm the grenade and fire it, and threw it. I looked away and covered my eyes and ears. As it hit the ground, it detonated with a loud explosion and flash. The two women started screaming and swearing.

I immediately ran for the door, moving as best as I could beneath the disorientation, getting into the changing rooms and out. I was lucky to have gotten away. I continued to run down another hallway running deeper into the building. I needed to lay low, and I suppose I had a greater chance of doing so by getting back into the tunnels under the building.

Moving along, I then heard yelling. The voice sounded like it belonged to the blue haired girl from earlier.

"Sempai! Sempai, there's a terrorist in the building!"

Out of a door in front of me, I saw the girl walk out. Her eyes widened in fear as she saw me coming. I stopped and looked around, trying to find another path to take, but there was none. I had to go past her. Suddenly, out of another door located off the one side in front of her, somebody else walked out.

"Shinobu, what's wrong?"

Unlike the other residents, this one was male, late teens, perhaps twenty. He was of a small frame and build, and his thick glasses suggested that he was probably weak and would be unable to hold his own. He turned around and saw me, his eyes also widening in fear. Actually, it was more like his eyes bugged out at the sight of my rifle and my armor, particularly while running towards him.

"There you are!"

From behind me, the long haired girl and the swordswoman had caught up with me. The foxy one was there as well, looking on with what appeared to be idle amusement. With them was also a pair of new girls. The first appeared to be the same age as the blue haired girl, and her dark skin suggested she was a foreigner. She was dressed in what appeared to be a Japanese schoolgirl uniform, and that would have made her look cute or potentially harmless.

That image was horribly, horribly, skewed by the enormous and sinister looking weapon she had pointed down at me.

The other girl was younger than the darker skinned girl, and her pale skin and blond hair told me she was also a foreigner, perhaps American. She held over her head an object that resembled an artifact of some sort, shaped to appear as a face. There was no conflicting image for this one – looking at her eyes, the expression on her face, and at the object she held over her head, she was simply pure evil.

"Suu, fire!"

"Roger!"

The dark skinned girl than fired her weapon, sending an energy beam down the hall. I was lucky enough to have dodged it, but the male down the hall apparently wasn't. I then got a good look at the weapon the dark skinned girl was wielding. An energy weapon? How was this possible? Energy weapons were still experimental, with probably another decade before they would become efficient enough to use in the field. How was it that this girl, over a century in the past, had a working version?

Another shot flew past me. There was no time to wonder why it was so. I need to move. I turned around and ran, straight for the blue haired girl and the male, who was getting back to his feet from a smoking crater caused by the shot that accidentally hit him. There wasn't a way to slide past the two of them, so I opted for a more direct approach.

As I neared the male, I lowed my stance and as I kept running, I ran my shoulder into his stomach, raised my stance, and rolled back over my shoulder and behind me. It shouldn't be too bad for him – he was able to survive a direct hit from an energy weapon, so in theory, he should also be able to survive behind run over like that. I continued to run.

"Ahh! Sempai!"

I couldn't tell, but the girl next to the male, 'Shinobu' from what I can hear, ran to his aid. Everybody then looked on, not sure whether to pursue me or to help their fallen resident. I took this to my advantage and made my way back to the dining room, and to the entrance. I quickly got in and slid down, making sure the back was closed, and continued to slide down to what I was hoping to be safety.

Sitting down, I rested against the wall, letting the events slide into place for me to think about. Let's see – I traveled 146 years back in time, I'm inside an inn, inhabited by at least six women and one male, with four of those six women able to cause me severe harm.

I let my head slide back against the wall. What did I ever do to get myself in this situation? This was simply, and utterly stupid.

I hit the back of my head against the wall yet again, before I realized something. I reached for my head, running my gloved fingers through my short hair. I then tried to remember as best as I could. The blue haired girl, when I saw her again in the hallway, was carrying something. I then groaned in agony.

I left my helmet up at the dining room when I took it off. Now the blue haired girl had it, and now everybody there had my helmet. The residents had a finished product comprising of technology over a century ahead of their time.

I did a quick check of my armor, and I also realized I had also dropped my sidearm, possibly when I got demolished by the two women in the bathing area. I still had my rifle at least, thanks to my rifle sling. But to also lose my sidearm…

I groaned in frustration yet again. How could I do that? I left my own equipment up there, in the hands of people who have, and never will, see it. It was a rookie mistake, and I wasn't a rookie. To think that I am considered a veteran by the soldiers I lead…

Looking around the dark hallway that I sat in, I took a moment to rest. I'll have to go back up there soon to recover it. In the meantime, I need to stop and think for a moment about all that has apparently happened.

…to say that I needed a Deus ex machina doesn't even begin to describe the level of shit I was in.


	2. Recovery

**Motion on a fourth dimensional plane **

Note: Second chapter already...

For those who reviewed, thank you. I'll admit, the idea is strange and unlikely, but I felt compelled to write it. I wanted to make something unique, and the various 'soldier-fics' that appeared in the Love Hina section also inspired it. The decision to make the perspective from a soldier a century ahead also gives for some interesting flashback or contemplative moments, all of which I enjoyed writing, and there's a type of subtle humour availible when doing so.

Well, I ought to keep working, or at least play some WoW.

* * *

Chapter 2: Recovery 

The T43 Integrated Tactical Helmet is the standard helmet in use by forces within the Commonwealth Military Command. It is a lightweight, low profile, but reliable and revered piece of military equipment. It is constructed with many layers of nanomaterials able to withstand high impact fragmentations, shrapnel, and of course, rifle rounds. Being a modular design, it allows the user to swap internal parts for comfort and handling, and is also designed to mount the AQN86 Computerized Multi-Role Tactical Heads-Up-Display to give the user full access to information on the battlefield, on the fly.

The L447 Standard Offensive Handgun Weapons System, SOHWS, is the standard sidearm for all forces in the Commonwealth. It fires a wide range of ammunition types and sizes, but is often chambered for a powerful and accurate 10mm round, with either the choice of hollow-point ammunition or depleted uranium, armor-piercing load-outs. The magazine, able to hold eighteen rounds, is loaded over top of the weapon with the rounds pointing sideways. With the use of a rotating chamber behind the grip, technically making it a bullpup weapon, each round is inserted into it, the chamber rotates and aligns with the barrel, and the user can then shoot, the process repeating itself for the next round. A series of equipment rails fitted in front of the grip also allows the user to customize their sidearm with whatever attachments necessary for the mission.

They are two simple pieces of equipment. The pistol wasn't a concern, since it didn't contain too much to reveal future technology, with the possible exception of caseless ammunition and with the L447's new layout and design, but the helmet I was worried about. By default, our helmets were fitted with kill mechanisms, essentially, its own colony of nanomachines. When our helmet is either forcibly removed or if we've been killed, the nanomachines will then break down the construction of the nanomaterial in our helmets, rendering it a useless hulk of carbon and other excess materials. The purpose of this system was to prevent the Bloc from reverse engineering our equipment. So far, the systems have always worked, and the Bloc has been forced to remain with simpler pieces of equipment more reminiscent of the 21st century in contrast to what we've been using. This ensures our advantage in battle.

Unfortunately, I removed my own helmet, which due to the recognition sequences in my gloves, didn't trigger the kill mechanisms. Worse, I left my helmet behind, meaning now that the residents of Hinata Inn had a complete design and piece of equipment more than a century ahead of their time.

How much of the timeline did I already screw up by even coming here? How much more of it was going to be screwed up by them having my helmet?

And how more will it be messed up even more if I go after my equipment?

There's no question about it – I had to recover my equipment and assuming any details or notes were made regarding either my helmet or sidearm, destroy them. I was lucky to have stayed low for the past few hours or so, but it was time to move in.

I pulled out my PDA, a smaller piece of equipment given to each Commonwealth soldier for the sake of personal use. It had my usual information and personal pieces of data, but it also functions the same way my HUD would, minus a few features. In particular, it too was keeping a rough, updated map of my current movement throughout the inn, as well as tracking signals on my equipment.

I immediately found their locations. They were within the same vicinity somewhere in the building, possibly the same room. Usually, if I had my HUD, as well as a connection to an overhead spy satellite via ICON, I could pick out the exact location in a three-dimensional layout. However, I was without it, so I am left only with a rather broad area to search in.

Before moving out, I took a moment to load the single magazine of stun rounds in my rifle, as well as fit my utility launcher with ring airfoil rounds. By default, Commonwealth soldiers were given various non-lethal munitions for events such as crowd control or having to secure a suspect. The amount varied mission to mission, but it often translated into a single magazine for our rifle, a single magazine for our sidearm, and a half dozen ring airfoil rounds. The stun rounds for our rifles were extremely light foam and compressible plastic rounds with an extremely soft non-metal conducting core that crumbles upon even the slightest impact, negating any major penetration capability. When fired, the core is given a jolt of roughly 400 kV, which is sent into the target on impact and thus disabling them harmlessly or even rendering them unconscious. Simple, yet highly effective, but against armored targets, it would be useless, due to the harder plating negating any contact with the skin and nervous system.

The ring airfoil rounds were probably the most conventional weapon in my arsenal, part of a design that has yet to be changed for more than a century. Beneath the primitive design was a tool proven effective time and time again, enough to warrant its place in the modern soldier's kit. All I had to do was score a hit either in the chest or head, and I could take my target down somewhat safely.

I then reached for a pouch and pulled out a cylindrical silencer, screwing it onto the muzzle with a steady _click-click_ as it secured itself in place. I also flipped up my rifle's backup sights. My HUD usually gave me the reticules and aiming aids, but for now, I needed to rely on my sights. The silencer was a no-brainer – while the stun rounds were quieter than a normal 6.8mm caseless DU, they still had a very audible _snap_ when fired. Also, the silencer would slow the rounds down further, making them even less lethal, something that I, ironically, needed at the moment.

Making sure my rifle was all set, I took a deep breath. I was here, on my own – no backup, no teammates, and no intelligence – just myself. A part of me was nervous and unwilling to go ahead. Teamwork was emphasized with my training, and here, I had none to rely on. Worse, I was walking back into a place filled with people who already know I'm here, and are more than willing to fight back.

Taking another deep breath, I then moved out. I got back into the tunnel and crawled my way up to the kitchen yet again. I checked my corners as I moved out – clear. The lack of light coming into the kitchen told me it was nighttime. This hopefully meant most of the inhabitants of Hinata Inn were asleep.

Pulling out my PDA, I picked out the location. I was really starting to miss my HUD – with my PDA, it gave me a general location, but it didn't account for what floor it was on. From the outside, Hinata Inn was at least three stories high.

I shut the tunnel entrance behind me, and I started by moving down the same hallway I was previously running down from. I followed the direction given by my PDA as close as possible. It looked as though I was close, when it immediately spiked and changed direction. There were some other rooms within the area, but as I approached them, the location of my equipment changed direction. It either meant my equipment was above or below the current floor I was on.

I now needed to find the stairs.

I was moving away when I suddenly heard one of the doors slide open. I quietly swore and leapt out of the way, running down the length of the hallway and hiding behind a corner. Peering around the corner, I spotted the blue haired girl, 'Shinobu' looking around. Her expression was somewhat fearful, but curious. Did she hear me while I was looking around outside? The possibility of that played through my head.

My thumb played around with my rifle's fire selector, switching from safe to single shot, and back again. I could take her down right here and now, and keep her out of commission for at least an hour or two. I had forty-five rounds, and using one didn't matter too much.

I perished the thought. Even if the rounds were non-lethal, the thought of using it on a kid was just sick. Luckily, Shinobu didn't find anything, and went back into her room. I paused and waited before I could continue on. Before I did, I took out my PDA and did a rough diagram of the area I was in, and made sure to mark down the location of Shinobu's room.

I stared up at the ceiling. I wasn't sure why, but I had a strange feeling my gear was located upstairs. Only one way to find out…

I moved around a bit and I was able to find another set of stairs and led up to the second next floor, third, from the looks of it. I moved in closer and homed in. It wasn't spiking or jumping around – I was getting closer. I had just passed another room and what appeared to be a balcony when I heard more footsteps.

Worse, they were coming this way.

I looked around, trying to find a place to hide. The balcony looked good, but it was open, and I would have stood out if I tried that place anyways. I found myself taking several steps back, when I found my answer.

I slid open the door to Room 304 and got in, closed the door behind me and hunkered down in a corner. Sure enough, I could hear the footsteps of somebody walking around outside. Their footsteps were steady and held pace – this person wasn't merely, say, going to the washroom. Whoever was up and out of bed was up to look for me.

Inching closer to the door, I peered through a crack, and all I could see was somebody with long black hair, carrying a sword.

It was the crazy swordswoman.

I wasn't surprised. Seeing how hostile she was, I would have been surprised had she _not_ been up. I checked my PDA again. Damn, the location of my equipment was located just down this hallway. Her presence patrolling it was a snag. Again, I found myself playing with my rifle's fire selector.

No, I couldn't do it. Avoiding all confrontations would be a better idea. I still felt uneasy about the idea of shooting these people. A Bloc soldier was different – civilians, particularly women, from over a century ago? Sure, preserving my well-being was one thing, but I just couldn't get the strength to do so on these people.

I looked around, trying to find something to help. I smiled when I found the window. If I couldn't use the hallway, I'll simply avoid it entirely – I'll move towards the location via the outside of the building.

I got up and made a beeline towards it. My foot then snagged against something. I gave it a bit of a kick, partly by accident, watching as it landed with a soft _thud_ and then a _squeak_. The squeak caught me off guard, and I raised my rifle as part of a reflex. It was a stuffed animal, a yellow bear…thing…squirrel? Either way, it was nothing.

I then heard shuffling. Turning to the side, I was then met with the sight of a woman sleeping. I instantly noticed her color of hair, and the two distinctive antennas that rose over her head. It was her – the girl with the strong punch. She moved around in her futon slowly, the affects of sleep still slowing her movements. She was starting to move more and more. Did the squeak wake her up?

Thoughts of me being pummeled by her overwhelmingly powerful punch were pieced together in my head. Worse, any noise from within here would attract the attention of the swordswoman outside.

She stirred some more, and as she did, part of her blanket rolled off of her. I then realized part of her shirt was unbuttoned, providing a rather gratuitous view of her upper chest.

I _really_ had to get out of here.

I had reached the window and had gotten outside the room when I heard something moving. I was caught off guard yet again when I realized a small block of wood on the floor was moving. It was the spot where the stuffed animal was just sitting at moments ago; funny how I didn't notice it. It was actually a trap door, or at least a hole of some sort.

"Hey, Narusegawa, are you alright? I heard something-wah!"

It was the male - the same one I had ran over just hours ago. His room was right below the girl? There was a moment of awkward silence just before I heard the girl, Narusegawa, yell.

"YOU PERVERT!"

I had gotten out of view and was clinging to a piece of wood next to the window just I heard her throw a punch. If I had to guess, the male had seen exactly what I had seen just a second ago. All of a sudden, I heard wood splinter and break from the top of the roof and a single lone figure flying through the air, twisting and screaming as he flew through the night sky.

Damn…that girl punched _hard_.

I took the moment to keep moving. I shimmied along, slowly moving across the outside wall. It was a tiring process, but it wasn't too bad. The training I had to undergo covered pretty much everything, and at the moment, I suppose I now had the dreaded answer for the single most asked question amongst trainees and recruits: 'Since when are we going to need that?' Given the circumstances, I had to give myself credit – to shimmy along the side of a building to evade hostiles was simply ingenious.

After a few minutes of moving along, I had reached the location. I checked my PDA once again – the locations of my equipment were directly inside of where I was currently hanging from. I had guessed right about going to the floor above. Taking a quick look around, I spotted a window. I climbed for it, managed to get it open, and I crawled in. I was quiet getting in, but my landing was somewhat off. I ended up rolling around on the ground. I got to my feet and brushed the dirt and grass off my armor.

Wait a minute, dirt and grass? What the hell?

I was covered in it, as though I had landed in the middle of a jungle or something. Raising my head, I was met with absolute shock as I realized I _was _in a jungle. Long vines, sprawling tropical trees, thick green leaves and plants…it was all over the place. Looking behind, I saw the walls and the window I came in from, which all conflicted with the image of the apparent jungle.

Why was there a full jungle located in the middle of a building? Furthermore, how was this even possible? The ground was real dirt and soil, and it felt solid and packed. The trees grew out of it as though it was natural earth, and I swear, even the temperature was somewhat higher here than outside. And I don't know if I was in too much shock, but I think I could even hear the chirping of birds and other animals inside the room as well.

I have gone 146 years into the past, and I'm seeing things that are making absolutely no sense.

I forced myself to ignore it all. I really didn't want to think about 'why', especially in this place. Raising my PDA, I closed in on the signals from my equipment. As I did, I kept my rifle raised. Jungles were the worst place to be operating in. Forget urban warfare – urban warfare could almost be considered fun compared to a jungle. The heat, the wildlife, and especially the annoying amount of cover made jungle warfare an absolute pain in the ass. Behind every tree could possibly be either a hostile or a booby trap just waiting to be sprung.

It was a place where our thermal vision equipped HUD's would help. Sadly, being without it was only adding to a level of annoyance I had yet to feel. I really couldn't wait 'til this was all done.

Continuing along through the thick foliage, I eventually found a desk and a computer hidden away in the back of the room. Sure enough, there they were – my helmet, and my sidearm, sitting at the side of the desk. Putting away my PDA, I walked towards them. I nearly fell over when I stepped into a pool of water. Actually, it was more like a miniature lake.

This room, already a big jungle, was complete with its own lake?

I got my foot out of the water and continued. I was just five meters from the desk when I stepped on something, and then promptly slipped and fell.

"Fuck!"

I couldn't hold myself in. This was getting annoying. Looking at my boot, I found a banana peel, in which I picked up and threw into the jungle with anger. This was getting ridiculous; who the hell would leave banana peels lying around? Getting back to my feet in a fury of minor curses and swears, I slowly made my way to the desk, careful to not step on any of the other banana peels littering the area, as well as to pick them up and toss them aside. Luckily, it relieved some of my anger in the process.

When I got to the desk, I noted the stack of papers and notebooks sitting next to my helmet. It was a pretty heavy stack, at least a foot wide of notes and paper. I picked up one of the notebooks and skimmed through it. Sketches and diagrams of my equipment were drawn in each page, and long sections of text and writing was filled in between. I checked the other sheets and notebooks – all the same. This was all the information recovered from my equipment. In some way, I found myself quite astonished that somebody was able to uncover this amount of information this fast.

I looked around the surrounding area, as close to the desk as possible, and I found a metal garbage can, as well as a large cloth or blanket. Excellent – this would work quite well. I stuffed the notes inside of it and reached for my survival pack clipped at the side of my belt. Opening it up, I took out my set of matches.

Destroying intelligence or sensitive materials was often best left to a thermite grenade. It made sense – the heat and fire of such a device would leave nothing behind for hostile units to use. However, thermite grenades were equipped quite sparingly to units in the Commonwealth, including my unit, and even if I had one, it would leave a bit too much collateral than what I would wish. My only hope was to dispose of them directly, albeit primitively.

I pulled the garbage can filled with the notes below the desk and draped the blanket over the entire desk. If I was lucky, I could light a match, incinerate some of the documents, and keep the smoke contained and hidden underneath the blanket for a moment so I could escape without anybody knowing. There were too many sheets of paper to destroy – at best, doing half now would be the better option, and then I could take the other half and dispose of it later.

Before I set my plan in motion, I turned the computer on. If I had to guess, there had to be some files or data on my equipment stored on the machine as well. I waited as the machine started up. I stood there for what felt like a long period of time. I had forgotten how long it would take these old machines to turn on. The new computers in the 22nd century had hardware and storage all integrated into a layer of super-conducting material, which doubled both as storage of data and for graphical output. All other hardware required to run everything was integrated into the layer of super-conducting material. An example was my PDA – an extremely simple piece of equipment, actually. More than half of it was more hardened plastics and metals to protect the device than anything else. It was quicker, and was sure as hell more durable than having a motherboard and several other components plugged in.

Finally, the machine booted up. It then brought me to a login screen, where a text box then appeared. From the looks of it, I needed a password. Damn, I wasn't expecting this. The owner of this machine actually took care of their computer – a surprise, seeing how most in the future didn't. I took a closer look at the screen. Much to my surprise, the text wasn't in English or Japanese, but rather…something else. It looked like an incoherent mix of scribbles and drawings, not like any written language I had seen before.

Looking closer at the writing, it seemed somewhat familiar. I swear, I had seen this type of writing somewhere before. Wait, is this…Molmolian? That's why I was able to 'somewhat' recognize it. The owner of this machine, quite possibly the darker skinned girl, was from Molmol, or rather, the Central Pacific Empire, to be more politically correct.

Thinking about this brought back some rather interesting memories. Molmol, known more by its international title, the Central Pacific Empire, was a small Pacific country, so small and so insignificant that nobody in all of North American actually heard of it. I myself, I not heard of it until two weeks prior to going there, when I was briefed regarding a new mission in the area. Molmol was an out-of-place country – it still had an absolute monarch, in a time when democracies and socialist governments ruled, and it was quite an underdeveloped nation as well, compared to the technological supremacy of North America. Economics and demographics aside, the Molmolian king was an annoying opportunist. While Molmol was officially neutral in The War, the king was helping both sides. He'd be selling food and resources to the Commonwealth one day, and information regarding Commonwealth activity in the Pacific to the Bloc the next, all for the sake of his country. Despite diplomatic agreements not to aid the opposing side, all of which were made to both the Commonwealth _and_ with the Bloc, the king of Molmol continued to screw around with both sides.

Commonwealth Military Command got fed up with this and gave the go-ahead to our regiment, the 1st Mechanized Light Calvary Regiment, to invade Molmol. The aftermath was shocking, if not simply hilarious – a single regiment, mixed between infantry and light armored vehicles, had taken the island and achieved total control in two days, with no killed-in-action or wounded. We had completely smashed all resistance on the island, due to our overestimation of the Molmolian military strength, all within the course of forty-eight hours. It was complete and utter domination, the same one that soldiers would joke about over a beer in their later years, or a hilarious anecdote that could be cited as an example for how to kick ass.

The king himself was assassinated during the final stages of the mission. I was there, with my squad, and I could distinctly remember that it was my rifle pointing towards him, and several seconds later, we would be making the report to command that our mission was complete.

Looking at the computer screen and the writing, it brought back the memories of that invasion.

The part with the password concerned me. I didn't have the time, or the ability to do so in this area. I shut the computer down and pried open its computer tower, removing its hard drive. I could interface with the hard drive if I used my PDA, and I could use my hacking programs to brute force my way in, but I had to do so another time. I needed to get rid of the written information first.

I finished draping the blanket over the desk, and I then lit the first match. I dropped it in, and watched as it slowly spread to the other papers. As soon as I was sure it was all burning, I released the blanket, letting it cover all the openings around the desk. The remaining half, I fold parts of it up and stuffed it into whatever pouches I had available. Mission complete, for now, anyways.

I then proceeded to reclaim my equipment. I picked up my sidearm, briefly checked it for any damage, and then slid it back into my holster. I did the same with my helmet, before preparing to put it back onto my head.

That was just milliseconds before alarms started ringing.

I then realized there was a network of lasers previously locked onto my equipment. By moving them, I had sprung the alarm. I needed to get the hell out of here.

I was about to get back to the window when the door leading into the room opened up. There stood the crazy swordswoman and the dark skinned Molmolian, with the others slowly appearing.

"There you are!" the swordswoman screamed and she leapt forward, her blade in the air.

"Go, Mecha-Tama!"

Mecha-what? Suddenly, something flew at me out from nowhere. I was able to make out its shape to be some type of shiny metal turtle or something. It had a gun mounted onto the back of its shell, in which it promptly began to fire at me with. Just as it fired, the swordswoman had also just reached my position. Before her blade could touch me, whatever the mechanized turtle had fired had hit – both of us.

The force of the impact sent me flying. I could feel my helmet leaving my grasp. When I came to, I then realized the swordswoman was also hit, and was lying in a pile next to me. This was my chance. I got up off the ground and rolled forward, plucking my helmet off the ground and jamming it on top of my head, also taking some time to lift up my facemask as well – common sense, really. The familiar computer screens turned on and the targeting reticules and aids appeared.

It was great to see it all again.

I raised my rifle and aimed for the mechanical turtle. My current load out wouldn't be able to do anything to it, but if I was lucky, the ring airfoil round should have enough force to at least knock it back. I fired off one of them, watching as the small plastic round impacted against its head and bounced off. The turtle was shot farther back into the room. I was partially right, I guess.

"You shall pay!"

The swordswoman was at it again. I narrowly dodged her sword, and I broke out running. I brushed past the dark skinned girl at the door and got out into the hallway. My pacing was frantic, and I had turned to the side just in time as I neared the wall. My shoulder left a sizable dent in the wall, but at least it slowed me down.

I continued to run, picking a random direction and running there.

In the background, I could hear the swordswoman giving chase. She was too close – while my morals told me otherwise, I knew I had to do it. I turned around, raised my weapon and fired a shot.

The swordswoman blocked and deflected the round with a single swipe of her sword.

Was there another way to say it, other than 'Oh, _shit!_'?

She swung her sword again, and just like the day before, it sent me flying. I seriously needed to find out how the hell it was doing that. I had gotten up just as the door to my right opened. I then realized in horror that it was the door to Room 304 that had opened.

Out stepped the long haired goddess with the crazy fist.

I got up and ran, now with Narusegawa and the crazy swordswoman in pursuit. With my HUD now back, I had the advantage of using whatever tools or utilities necessary. I brought up my radar and kept tabs on the two women chasing me, and I switched on my thermal vision so I could at least see if somebody was going to jump me as I was running.

It was working, somewhat – I knew when the swordswoman swung her weapon, and I knew which way to dodge. Narusegawa could only actually hit me if she was close, so I figured I'd have to stay at a distance from her. So far so good – I was invulnerable…

_WHAM!_

Something flew out of somewhere and got me in the head. Next thing I knew, I was floundering on the ground for a moment, trying to get back to my feet. Next to me were the remains of what appeared to be a priceless artifact. I looked up and realized it was the evil blond kid, and she had somehow produced yet another stone artifact.

I had almost no time to react until she had dropped it onto me. My helmet, designed to take impacts probably twenty times heavier and faster, took the brunt of it, but it didn't mean I couldn't feel the force of the impact. I fell back from the impact, and I tried to get back up. My radar picked up Narusegawa getting closer.

I _really_ had to get away.

"Get him, Naru!"

Naru Narusegawa? Interesting – her first and last name were quite similar, and it had a nice ring to it.

Why the hell was I thinking that? I was close to getting my ass kicked and I'm thinking about a girl's name? I then felt a strong kick at the back of my head. Naru's legs must be insanely strong – she had lifted me right into the air with that kick. If that wasn't bad enough, I then felt another kick, this time at my back, and that propelled me even further down the hall.

So, Naru could attack with both her fists _and_ her legs. How pleasant…

My flight path, as far as I could tell, was at an angle towards the wall and also towards the floor. I slammed straight through the wall, and then impacted against the floor at what felt like the same velocity a novice paratrooper would hit the ground at. My stomach then floated for a split second as the floor gave way. I was falling, and Naru's kick still gave me enough forward momentum to keep going forward. I fell and ended up one floor below.

Was it even possible to ask how Naru was that strong? Hell, was it even worth knowing?

I weakly got up and out of whatever crater I might have ended up in. I was in a great deal of pain, but it immediately receded and I then started to feel woozy – the drugs were being injected and they were relieving me of the old mistress.

I was on the verge of wondering where I landed, when I was met with the sight of two firm and well rounded breasts.

Wait a minute…breasts?

Looking up, I immediately recognized the face and hair of the curvaceous fox from yesterday. She was sitting on her futon, and her shirt happened to be partially unbuttoned, the last few at risk of letting her nicely shaped assets from spilling out.

I had landed in her room?

"Heey…who's there?" the fox slurred.

I immediately took note of the bottle in her hand. My helmet's scanning tools did a brief scan of the bottle and picked out several key chemical compounds and ingredients, which it used to crosscheck with existing information in my databases. The final conclusion: it was sake, Japanese rice wine. Was the fox drunk? I switched to a blood alcohol content scanner and scanned her. Her blood alcohol content was .25.

Yeah, she was drunk alright.

"Heeeeellllooooo…?"

She then fell forward. I quickly caught her in my arms. Was she passed out?

I could feel her snuggling against me.

No, she definitely wasn't passed out, but she wasn't fully conscious either.

I tried to dump her back into her futon, but I then noticed that there were four people staring in from the top of the hole I made entering into the fox's room.

Naru, the crazy swordswoman, the evil artifact tossing blond kid, and the Molmolian stared at me, with a drunken girl in my arms. It was an image that would leave little for imagination for anybody else watching.

I dropped the girl onto her futon and tried to run for the door. It was a worthy effort, but a failure nonetheless. I was dropkicked by Naru, and then sent flying through the door by one of her immensely powerful punches. I was able to recover and sit myself up, but I then found the tip of the swordswoman's blade hovering mere millimeters from my helmet.

"You hide at a girl's dormitory, prey on innocent women, and now, you attack our fellow boarder? You are a despicable criminal and villain without respect or decency!"

"What are we going to do with him?" the Molmolian asked as she slid into place next to the swordswoman, the expression on her face telling me that she wanted to do something devious.

Naru and the evil blond gathered with the other two. All four stood in front of me, their faces filled with expressions so evil and cruel, they could probably make a Drill Sergeant break down and cry.

"Argh…my back still hurts…"

Somebody new arrived at the scene. The voice belonged to a male. It was him! He had just returned? Come to think about it, he _did_ fly pretty far, so making it back here at this time shouldn't be too surprising. He came around the corner, en route back to his room while he rubbed the side of his face and his back.

Christ, was this guy immortal or something?

"Heeey, Keitaro!" the Molmolian chirped happily. "We caught the guy who ran over you yesterday!"

"Wait, who are you talking about Suu…? What the _hell?_"

As with yesterday, his eyes bugged out when he saw me. A plan then clicked together in my head. I brushed the sword out of my face and charged straight for him. His reactions were slow, and it allowed me to slip past him, turn around, and grab him from behind. I held out my assault rifle with one hand, and held the male, 'Keitaro', with the other.

He was now my human shield.

"Keitaro!" Naru cried out as she stepped forward.

"Don't move! Nobody move!" I shouted, moving my assault rifle from person to person.

My assault rifle weighed roughly four and a half kilograms – I was used to that kind of weight, but I wouldn't be able to hold for long with one hand. I had to hurry and get them to back off.

"Ahhh! Somebody help me! Motoko? Naru?"

I slowly began to walk backwards, my rifle still raised. The swordswoman, 'Motoko', if I had to guess based off of their brief exchange, stepped forward, but she was careful not to charge at me. If I didn't have Keitaro between myself and them, Motoko would have rushed at me for sure.

"Stay back!"

So far this was working. With a hostage in hand, I stood a slightly better chance. I continued to move back, until I picked something moving up to me on my radar. Keeping my arm around Keitaro and keeping him in front of the women, I turned myself around and pointed my rifle down the other end of the hallway. There were two new arrivals. The first was Shinobu, her blue hair and small size was a dead giveaway. The other was somebody I had not identified earlier. She appeared a fair bit older than the residents of Hinata Inn, late twenties or so, perhaps thirties, older than even me at least. She had short brown hair, with two thick strains extending down in front of her ears and stopping around the middle of her neck. A lit and smoking cigarette dangled lazy in the corner of her mouth, and her eyes stared unpleasantly at me. She was still dressed in her nightgown, which did little to hide her rather gorgeous figure.

I then noticed she had a gun pointed at me.

"Put my nephew down."

Her voice was cold and monotonous, but in an alluring and feminine way. Somehow, that seemed to suit her.

"Aunt Haruka, thank God!"

She then squeezed off a round, much to the surprise of both me and Keitaro, who was then screaming in fear moments later. The round had buried itself an inch from Keitaro's foot.

"_Haruka_" she corrected.

My scanners did a brief check over the size of the bullet hole the weapon left, and empty cartridge on the ground, and the weapon itself in Haruka's hands. The scans concluded it was a Browning High Power, a widely used sidearm during the early 20th century, extending even into the early 21st.

I noted in particular that it fired 9mm – definitely not able to pierce my armor.

"Put the gun down!" I ordered, lining my rifle up with Haruka.

She refused, holding firm her stance and her weapon. Her stance bothered me – the way she held her weapon and the way her arms and legs were positioned told me she was extremely well trained. The shot she had fired had also landed perfectly without any risk for Keitaro, and she kept her sights lined up with me, without any fear or hesitation.

Great – in addition to Naru and her extremely powerful punch, Motoko and her sword, the Molmolian and whatever devices or schemes she had in store, the evil blond kid and her stone artifacts, there was now Haruka, highly skilled and proficient in firearms.

Five to one odds - could I be any more screwed?

"Put the gun down!" I shouted again.

"Who are you?" Haruka asked. Her voice still in the same monotone – it annoyed me because I couldn't tell if she was hesitant or not. Then again, seeing how well trained she appears to be, I wouldn't doubt it if she was ready to unload a full clip right into me at this second.

"Who are you? What are you doing at Hinata-Sou?"

"I am not authorized to answer that question."

Bullshit. Saying that wasn't going to help at all. If this was even going to help, I might as well start spewing bits from Article 4-C of the Commonwealth Military Command's Procedures and Regulations Document: 'All Commonwealth Military Command personnel, unless approved or ordered so by a senior superior officer, are not authorized to divulge data or intelligence regarding Commonwealth military operations within the immediate and international area.'

None of that was going to help me. Not now. I was standing in a hallway holding onto a hostage with hostiles in front and behind me, and there wasn't much to help me.

"You coward! Why must you hide behind another's life rather than face us like a real warrior? Have you no sense of honor?"

Motoko stared at me with eyes filled with spite. Funny, I've never had _that_ question before. As far as I was concerned, 'honor' was just a word, and only a word. I often attributed honor with being shot first in a battle, and as such I never cared about it. Especially in a 22nd century war, 'see first, shoot first' was key. There was no time to 'see first, let opponent know that I'm going to shoot him, give him an equal chance, then shoot.'

"Please, let Urashima-sempai go!"

I then found myself staring at the crying form of Shinobu. She stood slightly in front of Haruka, the tears rolling down her smooth cheeks and to the floor.

"Just let him go! He hasn't done anything wrong!"

I then found myself unable to move as I stared at Shinobu's pleading form. I was thankful I had my helmet and facemask on – the residents would not see me hesitating. For a moment, I realized what I was really doing. I temporarily left the semi-conscious autopilot I usually moved in and realized that I was holding somebody hostage to protect myself. I was using Keitaro as a bargaining chip for my own means.

On one side, it was a conflict of morals and ethics – the same things I always though I was born without. In reality, it was a mission failure. The point where I had to take a hostage means my mission has taken a complete turn for the absolute worst. I had gotten myself waist deep in shit, and I now had very few options on how to resolve this. Of course, I couldn't use Keitaro as means of negotiating.

Well, there was one solution, but I needed to be quick _and _lucky. Strangely, I was without either of those two during my time here.

I released Keitaro and pushed him forward. While he fell, I turned around, switched my rifle's fire mode to the utility launcher, and fired. The ring airfoil round shot out and got him in the back and also hurled him forward some more. There was a collective gasp from everybody watching as he fell to the ground. They would all assume the worst for a moment or two.

It was in that moment that I could escape.

I spun around and ran past Shinobu and Haruka, pushing her handgun out of the way. I then ran as fast as I could down the hall. Gunshots then rang out – Haruka was now firing at me. There wasn't any room to dodge and weave, but that didn't matter. I could feel several dull thumps on my back – the 9mm rounds were hitting me, but were being denied by my armor.

I rounded the corner and ran into another hallway. My radar was picking up at least three or four people in pursuit. I pumped the slide on my utility launcher and pushed in a flashbang round, set on a timer, which I then fired at a wall behind me. The round bounced off the wall and hit another, in which it also bounced off of. I continued to run and tried to put as much distance between myself and my pursuers.

"There he is!" a voice sounding similar to the evil blond kid yelled.

A brief second later there was a loud explosion, followed by several screams and curses. I had to admit, the trick of dropping a flashbang round was getting old already, even after just the second time. But, it was effective enough for me to keep running. My HUD accessed the mapping data from my PDA and created before me a rough diagram of the building – complete with a three dimensional layout and updated areas of interest.

I found the tunnel entrance in the kitchen and headed straight for it. Same as usual – same escape plan, same exit. I have to admit, this was working quite well. For once, I didn't need to change my tactics or anything. I got into the kitchen, slid the poster out of the way, and got in, also making sure that it was in place after I went in.

Back to the safety of the tunnel – I was safe. Once inside the tunnel, I moved far from the entry and further down the tunnel. As soon as I was what felt like a safe distance, I checked over my equipment. I still had my assault rifle and I had only expended one of my stun rounds. I used a pair of ring airfoil rounds – one to get the mechanical turtle out of my way and the other on Keitaro. I had my sidearm and it was in good condition. I field stripped it just to be certain, and I was. My helmet was working, evident by the now working heads-up-display. Recover all equipment - complete.

There was still the next part to finish.

I pulled out the remainder of the notes and the hard drive I stole from the Molmolian's computer. Looking around the new section of tunnel that I was now at, I noticed there were several rooms.

Jackpot.

The insides of these rooms were bare and unfurnished, save for a few pieces of rock or miscellaneous items. Some didn't even have sections of floor. If I had to guess, these rooms are extremely old and no longer used. Lucky enough, there was a bowl in this one, non-wooden, thankfully. I started with the notes, taking the sheets and tearing them up into smaller pieces before stuffing into the bowl and lighting them on fire. The process took more time, but I was in a safer area and I had all the time to do so. It also reduced the amount of smoke from disposing them, which was also a good benefit.

While I kept along with the process of burning the notes, I pulled out the hard drive and connected it with my PDA. Now that I had time, I could now hack the device. Our PDA's were fitted with several programs able to break through or bypass various security systems. This was so, in the event a Commonwealth soldier finds a computer or machine carrying Bloc intelligence, we can access it regardless of whatever protection is used. I wasn't much of an engineer or computer person, but I was trained on how to use them, and plus, the programs themselves were idiot-proof enough for even me to use.

I let the PDA run an emulation using the data from the hard drive, and from there, I used a few brute force programs to test for passwords. It would take awhile, not that I was worrying. I still had other notes to destroy.

In addition, I took off my chest armor and began to inspect it. It was shaped like a vest, only it was thicker and was constructed out of nanomaterials. The front was fitted with several pouches and pockets. Storage space was integrated into the back of our vest, where it doubled as partial storage space for rations, medical kits, or water. It wasn't meant to simulate a full military rucksack, but rather, act as immediate space for a soldier. It was more armor than anything else though.

I found the places where Haruka's bullets landed at. They still remained in place, not for much longer as I scraped them off. Their groupings were tight – Haruka was definitely skilled and well trained. The armor was well constructed, so much, that the small 9mm pistol rounds wouldn't even come close to penetrating. Hell, if a .50 AE and point blank couldn't get through the armor, everything else below it certainly wouldn't.

Satisfied, I put my chest armor back on and returned to destroying the data. The programs found the password and gained access within two or three minutes. I immediately searched the contents of the hard drive for anything that related to my equipment.

How long would it take? I had no definite answer, but it would be awhile. Plus, there were still the other notes and sheets of paper.

It was going to be a long night…


	3. Dramatis Personae

**Motion on a fourth dimensional plane**

Note: This chapter took much longer than anticipated. It was due to a sudden problem when my Windows Update automatically installed an update and restarted my machine. I lost nearly half of the finished chapter, and for about a day or so, I lost the will to write. But, I persevered, and alas, I got it finished.

This chapter felt boring to write. It's mainly the Sergeant's views and feelings about the residents of Hinata-Sou. I felt this sort of chapter was necessary from his view, as a 'recollection' phase to think over all he has seen so far. I also took some time to describe a bit more about Sergeant Randall. Not much, since that's reserved for later chapters, but some minor details to get things going.

Before I continue, I have to address a few things. First off, in response to Silent Kill's review (thank you for such a great review, by the way) - yes, I made a brief mention that most of this is inspired from Battlefield: 2142, but what I mean by inspired is that the universe Sergeant Randall is from was created by myself as an original work, but elements relating to or based off from Battlefield: 2142 were used to a certain degree. The MCU77 Walker is based off of the walking mechs that are taking centre stage in the new Battlefield game, and Sergeant Randall's combat armour is a bit similar to the European Union soldier, albeit bulkier and more robotic. The years and such are close, mainly because any number with '42' at the end sounds badass. The two universes are different, and I just want to make that clear. I'll reveal more about the universe the Sergeant is from in later chapters.

Other thing I need to bring up - what are Motoko's attacks? What does she actually say when she does her ki attacks? I need to know because I never actually caught what they were, and this entire time I'm been fudging the whole process by having Sergeant Randall describe her screaming something in Japanese and then he goes flying. If anybody can give me a list of her attacks and what they do, that would be greatly appreciated.

Last, I don't know if this is possible, but is there a map of Hinata-Sou somewhere on the internet? I know the manga has a few maps, but they're a little broad and don't give me much to work with. I've been using as much from the manga and anime to get a rough idea of where everything is, and I feel I could do better if I had a map. If it's not possible, then disregard this last one.

In the mean time, enjoy, and I'll get back to my writing, both next chapter and back to Halo as well, since I feel I've neglected my other story for a bit too long. Accursed writers block...

* * *

Chapter 3: Dramatis Personae 

I remember the aftermath of a battle I had served in North Africa, crossing the border from Algeria into Tunisia. We had broken through the Bloc lines and had them on the retreat. While some of our forces pursued them, my unit, as well as a few others was tasked with cleaning up any remaining forces in the area. I had cleared out a bunker when I found the remains of a Bloc officer's kit. In it was, interestingly enough, a poetry book - a poetry book. If it were a field manual, I wouldn't have been surprised. If it was a war novel, I wouldn't be too surprised. I would be a bit curious if it were a novel, mainly with what it would be about, but a _poetry book_? Judging the rest of his kit and his office, this officer must have been one of those artistic guys that would get shot while prancing around the battlefield looking for uniquely shaped rocks. I know, because it's usually me or somebody in my unit who shoots them, and my kill count for these guys was currently at nine – tied for third amongst my regiment.

The book had a bunch of poems written about war, soldiers, and all the like, but there was this one poem that disturbed me quite a bit.

It was a poem that compared a soldier in battle to the ultimate, hybrid animal. The soldier in question would have the 'eyes of an eagle,' the 'ears of a fox,' the 'nose of a bloodhound,' and all the rest. It was a fairly romanticized view of the war and its affects on a soldier. Reading over it several times, I was quite disturbed, mostly by the way it talked about soldiers, and how…_outdated_…it was.

True, war did some funny things to your senses, but enhancing it? Not a chance in hell. I don't know what it may have done to soldiers in the past, but for the few of us fighting The War, it was more like it had retarded our senses. Take sight, for example. Sure, we got used to seeing a little farther with the help of our helmet mounted tools, but the most we could ever generally notice were just minor details or general outlines. If it was shaped like a Commonwealth soldier, we'd wave to it, if it was shaped like a Bloc soldier, we'd shoot it. Also, most soldiers end up developing tunnel vision or simply get screwed up peripheral vision, thanks in large to our helmets and the displays, also by the repeated reliance on motion trackers, radar, and thermal vision. Not exactly an 'enhancement', per se.

Hearing was a funny, if not obvious one – if it didn't sound like your gun, get your head down, because it was probably a Bloc rifle. Better yet, if it was loud and had a long echo following it, get your ass inside a bunker or behind cover, because it was a Bloc artillery piece. And then, there's my personal favorite – if he's talking to you and he isn't speaking English, shoot him, or at least beat him with your stock and call it an accident.

Smell was also a funny one to bring up. The rule was - if it didn't smell like anything you can recognize, more chances than naught, it was warm, cooked food. Due to the amount of time spent around everything else – vehicles, weapons, dirt, etc, most of those smells blended into one general area. Food, especially cooked, smelled completely different and outside of that area, which explains the reasoning.

In this case, I could smell something, and it sure as hell wasn't anything I've smelled before.

Commonwealth soldiers were given packs of C-482 rations. Military food in the Commonwealth, compared to the supposed horror stories of the ancient Meals, Ready-to-Eat more than a century ago, had come a long way. Not only could the rations last for the better part of a century, but they were now compressed down into several small, lightweight blocks loaded with nutrients, vitamins, and all the rest. Hell, the rations even had nanites to ensure the food would go down without any digestion problems, and for a whole bunch of other reasons. There was no longer a worry about soldiers eating the wrong foods or going hungry – whenever we ate, we actually ate healthier and got more essential nutrients than the average civilian back home.

The problem, however, was that a C-482 ration block had absolutely no taste.

The nanites within the ration blocks were also designed to suppress the taste of the block. I never tried first-hand a ration block without the nanites but the numerous horror stories from that end were enough to convince me otherwise. The lack of taste would allow it to be consumed more easily, in theory. It was true – no taste meant we'd chew it and shallow it quickly, but in the end it was the equivalent of eating a soft piece of chalk. With no taste, it didn't even feel like food. It got rid of our hunger, that's for sure, but being tasteless was something that the soldiers, including myself, never got used to.

Luckily, Commonwealth base camps often had certified cooks and personnel to make _real_ food. Sadly, the amount of time spent away from camps and on the move meant it was a rare luxury. Even worse, base camps were almost rarely set up.

I ate a quarter of a tasteless ration block while I finished destroying the information, both the notes and the select pieces of data on the hard drive. After I finished, I left the room and journeyed around the tunnels for a bit, finding some new entrances up to the building in the process. I was back at the entrance leading to the kitchen when I caught the scent.

Incidents like this had happened in the past and it was always awfully tempting for soldiers to investigate the smell. Thoughts of warm, cooked food that actually had taste was always irresistible. I rarely fell for that call now, having been enlightened about the possible risks of following such reckless behavior. Back when I was Private, I was more likely to follow the scent, but three ranks later and a few years of service, I was invulnerable to it.

Looking around, I then realized I was already halfway up the tunnel with no intention of turning back. _Shit_.

Experience and rank my ass – I continued up the tunnel to track the scent.

I had gotten to the poster covering the entrance when I stopped. I switched on my thermal vision and looked around, picking up only a source of heat form the stove. Something was cooking there – food? Hell, if it wasn't, I was going to be _very_ upset.

After making sure the surrounding area was clear, I moved the poster out of the way and crawled into the kitchen. Sure enough, there was it – a boiling cooking pot, filled with whatever I had smelled earlier.

After making sure to cover the entrance behind me, I walked up to it, pulled down my face mask, and took out my most vital tool, stashed safely away in an easy to reach pouch – my racing spoon.

My _what?_ The racing spoon was a time honored tool used by soldiers for more than a century. Mine was a reinforced titanium spoon taken from a cookhouse back at base, shortened and smoothed down in certain areas. The purpose of it was to scoop up as much food in one quick swipe as possible on the go. This could be done anywhere, preferably at base, where when the cook isn't looking, which you'd then run by, scoop up a chunk of whatever he had cooked and go.

I opened the top of the pot. Inside was a beige soup, with bits of onion and tofu inside – miso soup, if I had to guess. I dipped my spoon in, scooped up a large spoonful of the soup and drank it.

I sighed for a moment. It was warm, and the sweet and salty taste of the miso soup was amazing. I had it before, a long time ago when my mother used to make it, but after growing up and serving in the military, never again. Even so, this one was astonishingly delicious. I felt like picking up the entire pot and running with it. Then again, somebody had taken the trouble of making it, so I decided to leave it behind.

It was too bad – it was _really_ good.

My radar then picked up somebody coming. I hurried back to the tunnel and took cover inside of it, making sure the poster was covering the entry. I switched my thermal vision on and watched as somebody came out and tended to the pot of miso soup. Judging from the shape and size of the person, it had to be Shinobu.

I reached for the side of my HUD and pulled out a small fiber optic camera. It was a rarely used tool, but was fitted onto our HUD's if we ever needed it. It was a fiber optic with a camera fitted at the end, and was both flexible and small. The purpose was to check corners before actually moving, since it was a camera, and since it could also be bent and maneuvered around easily. Unfortunately, it was really cumbersome to use and in practice, it would just be easier to check corners the conventional way.

I wondered for a few years what we could actually use it effectively for, and now I had the answer.

I slid it slightly past the edge of the poster and switched on a separate viewing window. The image then appeared, giving me a live feed of the kitchen. I adjusted and panned the camera around to get a better look.

Shinobu was there, ladle and ingredients in hand, tending to the soup. So, she was the cook? If I had to guess, Shinobu was only twelve or thirteen years of age, but she was already doing the cooking? Better yet, she was actually good at it – the taste of the miso soup still stayed with me. When my kid sister and I were around the same age as Shinobu, we were a pair of idiots who needed our parents to make excuses for how useless we were.

Shinobu, on the other hand, was something else - responsible, capable, and certainly skilled. She was still a child at heart, but I had the feeling there was more to her – somebody far beyond her age locked deep inside.

"_Heeeeeeey, Shinobu! What's for lunch?"_

"Miso soup, and I'll be making some curry later, Su-chan."

I panned the end of the camera around a bit, and sure enough, the Molmolian, whom I was now sure was named Su, came into view. She practically slid into the room and began jumping around Shinobu. Her movements were almost like a monkey, but I doubt even a monkey would be that hyperactive.

"Oh, Su, did you ever find your hard drive?" Shinobu asked.

Su then dropped down from the ceiling and pouted, her seemingly sugar-induced high fading off in an instant.

"No, that mean soldier stole it! And he ruined my wedding gown!"

Shinobu nearly fainted when she heard Su mention 'wedding gown.'

"Ahh, wedding gown? Are you – are you…?"

"No, it was a gift from my sister, and it means a lot to me," Su explained, calming down the previously freaked out Shinobu. "But the mean soldier lit a fire under it and the smoke ruined it!"

A wedding gown? So that was what I used. Come to think about it, it was made out of a piece of really good material. It was the same category of items that most soldiers, assuming they were lucky enough, would find and sell to the locals to earn some extra money. How much of it did I really ruin by using it to keep the smoke and ashes under the table while disposing of the notes?

Su's mention of the hard drive also caught my attention. I still had it with me, now cleared of all vital information. I needed to return it as quickly as possible.

"_Hey, where are you?"_ Somebody new then came into the kitchen.

"Hm? Oh, good morning Sarah!" Shinobu greeted the newcomer.

I could almost feel myself quake in fear when I realized it was the evil blond kid. She burst into the room wearing what looked like a miner's headlamp on top of her head and carrying a small notebook in her hands.

"Come on! I think I found the tunnel he used!"

"Uh, tunnels?" Shinobu curiously asked.

"We think the soldier is using the tunnels under Hinata-Sou to hide," Su explained. "That's why he's been able to disappear so quickly!"

"Since we've got some of the mapped," the blond kid, Sarah, continued, waving her notebook in the air. "We're going to go down and find him!"

"Shinobu, want to come?"

"N-no, but shouldn't you let Keitaro-sempai and Naru-sempai know what you're doing?"

"We'll let Naru decide what she wants to do with the soldier when we capture him" Sarah replied, her voice in the most evil tone possible.

"Operation: Capture Evil Soldier, go!" Su shouted in glee, as she and Sarah then ran out of the kitchen.

I paused for a second and let the information sink in. Those two knew about the tunnels? This was bad. My only means of safety was now compromised. I needed to keep moving. I slowly shuffled down the tunnel and back down below. As soon as I got there, I checked by motion sensor – so far, nothing.

Should I stay inside the tunnels, or should I relocate somewhere else?

Moving as far from those two scouring the tunnels was preferable, but that possibly meant going up into the main building. Was it worth the risk? In avoiding those two and being forced to encounter the others?

I had to consider it at least. I kept moving, back to the other section of tunnel I found earlier with the rooms. It was the same place where I had disposed of the remainder of the notes. I sat down outside one of the rooms, in order to contemplate my next move. Staying in the tunnels would be a good idea, but I'd be spotted by Su and Sarah almost instantly if they journeyed anywhere near here.

I sidetracked myself for a moment and thought about the two. Along with Shinobu, the three of them were the youngest residents of Hinata Inn. I had the strange, sinking feeling that Su was related to the same Molmolian king my regiment was ordered to overthrow. If so, this was going to be an extremely awkward situation – interacting with the ancestor of the same person my squad had killed a century later.

For the most part, she was a bizarre figure. She always wore a happy grin that spread ear-to-ear, was always jumping and bouncing around, and she even seemed oblivious to certain things going on at the same time. Was there some other level to her, other than a child stuck in a perpetual sugar-high? Somebody who is hiding behind a layer of false emotion?

Or was she simply an insane and energetic person?

As for Sarah, I could almost connect with her. She definitely isn't from around here, her natural blond hair and Caucasian features a definite giveaway. She was also surprisingly fluent in Japanese. She's almost like me – another foreigner, the definition of foreigner for me being taken to the next level, and we were both not of complete Japanese origin. On the other hand, she appeared almost genuinely evil. Whether it was the mischievous smirk on her face, prankster mentality, the giant stone artifacts she seemed adept at tossing and throwing – I made a mental note to stay away from her.

I immediately went back to thinking about the impending situation. Escape and evasion wasn't going to help here – there was no place for me to escape to. Outside of Hinata Inn was a completely different world. Walking out there with my weapons and equipment would be even worse. After that, there was the question of where I would even go. Being 1999, there isn't exactly an army outpost or base camp located anywhere nearby. I suppose my best bet was to stay here, at Hinata Inn.

For a moment, I considered handing myself in. It would take away the struggle of having to constantly hide, and I could relax a bit more. Better yet, Commonwealth soldiers weren't completely restricted from interacting with civilians. If I was lucky, I could befriend the residents and stay within their safety and away from the outside world until I could figure out what to do next.

On the other hand, my initial introductions weren't the friendliest, seeing how I held Keitaro hostage and held the others at gunpoint, and the residents don't seem to be too thrilled that I'm here anyways. Well, maybe Su and Sarah, but I take it they're only thrilled because they can hunt me down and do unimaginable things to me.

It was a tough choice, but at least it was an improvement over being stuck in enemy territory. Well, at the current rate, this _is_ enemy territory. Whether or not to hand myself in – I'll figure that one out later.

I was about to continue on, perhaps find another place to hide at for the time being until I noticed something next to a door. It was a tattered and worn piece of paper pinned next to a door with Japanese writing on it. I leaned in closer and activated some scanners to make out the writing.

_Moé._

What does that mean? It sounded like a name. Curiously, I opened the door and walked into the room. I was mid-stride through the doorway when I realized I should have looked through the room with thermal vision first. That way, I could have seen whatever was inside before walking into a potentially unknown situation.

My foot touched the ground, and I nearly recoiled out in shock.

There was _somebody_ else in the room.

I raised my rifle and kept it pointed at the figure. In the corner of the room was a figure, apparently human-shaped, seated in a chair with a large cloth covering their body. I switched on my thermal, and realized there was no heat emanating from the source. Was it a corpse? No, it wasn't. There weren't any signs of decaying or rotting matter.

I shuffled in closer, keeping my assault rifle level at the figure. I was right in front of the figure when I lifted the cloth up and away. I found myself nearly recoiled back in shock when I realized there actually was a person underneath.

The person appeared to be a girl, with faded blond hair that evenly framed the sides of her face and her green eyes. She was dressed in an old red dress that seemed reminiscent of a time gone by. She was still, motionless, and without any life present. There were no thermal signatures emanating from her – if I had to guess, she was dead, but that didn't account for why her eyes were wide open and why she was still in good condition…

I then noticed her hands, and I found that my muscles were tense and shaking. Sweat rolled down my back and I was unable to move.

This 'girl' was a doll.

Her arms and fingers were segmented, made of separate and individual parts. I then noticed that her eyes weren't real, but merely painted on.

I turned around for a second, breaking my moment of awkward inability to move, and I took several deep breaths. My hands shook, and I was chilled to my very core. It was a little known fact that the few team mates and comrades who knew often joked with me about. It was something that nobody who would know me at first glance would be able to identify, let alone understand why it was.

I was scared of dolls.

…

Was it a rational or irrational fear? Fuck that, I don't care – I was simply scared regardless of whatever category it fell under, and now I was scared shitless. I had a severe case of pediophobia – fear of dolls. I don't remember when it first developed – probably back when I was a kid, but somehow it did, and to this day, dolls equaled death for me. It sounds more like a joke, and even _I_ would have wanted it to be, but no, it's very real and it affects me quite drastically.

Hell, when I was five years old, I strayed from my mother while inside a toy store and ended up in the middle of the doll section. They were selling a new type of doll that was making a comeback for that moment in time, one that resembled the really old porcelain dolls, the ones that look more lifelike and older, with the old Victorian-era dresses and clothes. Seriously, if I ever find the same son-of-a-bitch who thought that was a _great_ idea, I am going to have his ass fragged.

When my mother and the staff found me, I was huddled in a corner unable to respond. It would take me three hours to leave the store, plus nearly a month of therapy by specially trained doctors to even help alleviate the already abnormal level of fear. It's an improvement as of now, but I still feel extremely uneasy around them.

It's funny, almost. I'm a soldier. I've seen hell – I've seen people die right in front of me, get blown to bloody shreds by artillery, get dismembered, or simply perish in some of the most gruesome ways possible. None of that gets to me as of lately.

But dolls?

I looked back at the doll. The way it sat there…the eerie similarities to a real human being…

Those were the things that got to me the most.

_Hello! Who are you?_

The voice caught me off-guard. I raised my weapon and scanned the room, looking from side to side. No, the room was empty. There was nobody here except for me. And the doll, but it didn't count. But I swear I heard something.

_Who are you? Do you know where Kei-kun is?_

There it was again. I looked around again, but still nothing. Lowering my rifle, I tried to calm down and think logically. There had to be some explanation for all this. I haven't been sleeping well lately. Even though I was used to it, and the nanites were aiding by injecting a steady stream of drugs to keep me up when needed, even the enhanced Commonwealth soldiers needed a bit of sleep now and then. It could also be attributed to being stuck underground for so long, or some type of combat fatigue.

Hell, could it also be a side affect of time travel?

Whatever it was, it didn't really matter. I realized I still had the cloth in my hands. Turning around, I figure the least I could do to combat my pediophobia was cover the doll and prevent eye contact.

_Do you know where Kei-kun is?_

The voice, again! Where the hell could it be…coming…from…

I looked down at the doll. No…fucking…way…

It is an _inanimate_ object – emphasis on 'inanimate'. Dolls don't move, dolls don't talk, and dolls certainly don't do anything other than sit on a shelf and stare back at you…

Suddenly, a series of mechanical clicks then sounded off.

The doll's head rotated and looked up at me.

_What's your name?_

_HOLY SHIT!_

I threw the cloth over the doll and ran out of the room. I closed the door behind me and ran down the hallway. I…did…not…see that. That doll _did not_ look at me. That doll _did not_ move under its own power and just look up at me. That doll certainly _did not_ talk to me…

Holy shit!

When I felt I was far enough from the room and the freaky doll, I sat down for a moment, still shaken by what seemed to happen.

Did that doll actually talk to me?

No….it wasn't possible.

But it moved!

No…it wasn't possible.

I heard the voices!

No…it wasn't possible.

It was communicating to me…

…

I swear to god, I needed to see a shrink.

After a few minutes of sitting in the corner taking deep breaths and letting a few antidepressants take affect, I was fine. The encounter with the doll scared the shit out of me, and worse, it felt like for a moment the doll was actually a living thing.

I forced myself to stop thinking about it. As far as I was concerned, I saw _nothing_.

To help with my forced denial of what I may have witnessed, I found one of the new tunnel entrances and started to crawl up it. I had no idea where it would lead to, but on the other hand, moving through it would allow me to get a good fix on alternative paths through the building, all of which I needed if I wanted to survive here for the time being.

I had found the apparent exit a few minutes later. It was covered by a piece of wall panelling, which was interestingly hinged in place. I switched on my thermal vision and motion tracker first before entering, remembering what happened when I didn't do so. Satisfied by the lack of motion from within the room and the lack of heat signatures, I opened the panelling and crawled out, landing a bit smoothly on the ground. The room itself seemed like a typical, tradition Japanese room. It wasn't just in the design, a uniform feature of the other rooms that I missed while on the run, but it was also with the elements spread out amongst it.

The most prominent feature was the full sized suit of samurai armour in the centre of the room. A quick scan of the room also pointed out the swords, the wall hangings with Japanese symbols and writing, and other small but distinctly Japanese items and décor. If I had to guess, this room belonged to Motoko, the swordswoman. I could tell that her room was at least set up and laid out in her interests. This room was a place of sanctuary meant for a warrior – exactly what Motoko is.

Motoko was an interesting figure. I've served in the military for close to eight years now, starting from a jaunty young age all the way until now. I've met a wide range and variety of peoples, and the ones who struck my attention were the hardcore career soldiers and gung-ho types. They were all good soldiers, but the amount of dedication and discipline they exhibited could not match that of Motoko. She was a true warrior, completely dedicated to protecting the people around her. The way she attacked me, either physically or verbally, when I was around was not rude or unpleasant by how I viewed it.

Instead, it was only a show of devotion. She was here to protect the residents of Hinata Inn. If she were a soldier, Motoko would be the most loyal and most obedient one possible – the same type I would trust my life with. Ironic, since she was out to get mine at the moment. As a soldier, she would be one of the best, forever vigilant and forever loyal to her cause.

I walked over to her door and snaked my fibre optic camera through a small opening and checked the outside. The hallway outside was the same one I was running down last night. The room right next to Motoko's was the one with the indoor jungle. I marked the location of Motoko's room down on my rudimentary map. Interestingly, I also noticed the hallway was now fixed. There were still parts that looked off, like a patched up article of clothing or an improvised and hastily re-armoured vehicle, but it was fixed, nonetheless.

The person responsible for doing the work around here must have been a miracle worker – especially to have gotten it done overnight.

I then proceeded to look around the room. There wasn't much to find in Motoko's room – everything was neat, tidy, and in place. Curiously, I walked by her desk and I decided to look through it. Doing so brought up some interesting thoughts – was it moral to look through somebody else's belongings? The items in one's desk, in particular, were private property, and they weren't exactly things that were meant to be viewed by anybody else, especially somebody not from around there.

Then again, I've rifled through an officer's desk and completely took it apart for papers, maps, and pieces of intelligence, and had done so without much of a thought.

But this wasn't the same. Morally, I should stop and be on my way…

…hey, what's this?

A small stack of paper then caught my eye. It wasn't the stack of papers, but rather, their location in the desk. They were pushed back into a far corner, hidden beneath a stack of other miscellaneous materials and objects, clearly not meant to be seen by anybody else.

What could be so important about these stacks of paper that they needed to be hidden…oh…_oh_…oh…_whoa_…that was…unexpected.

I did a brief skim and I realized it was a short story. Taking a more in-depth read over of the sheets, I was compelled to keep reading. The story involved a young woman, bound to serve her family as a warrior and wielder of a sword. She enters town one day and meets a young man, another warrior. Some type of incident happens and she becomes offended, and a dual between the two occurs. The young man proves to be stronger, and defeats her. She has lost her honour and her self-respect, but she becomes intrigued by the male, and she begins to follow and watch him. She is able to find his weaknesses, but each time she does, she finds herself more and more intrigued, and is beginning to feel previously unknown feelings. The climax of the story occurs when she encounters him one night, just the two of them, and she is caught between trying to redeem her honour, or to act upon the mysterious feelings she has developed…

…_whoa_…

Had there not been the behaviour modifying nanites, I would have found myself _pleasantly_ intrigued. Unfortunately, it only raised a single thought in my head – was this written by Motoko?

I was no English professor, but even I'd say it was well written. But if it really was written by Motoko, it raised a whole bunch of other questions about her. She was a strong and independent woman, one that doesn't require help from anybody else and also appears as one who doesn't even have a sense of love. Then what about this short story? Was there some other level or part of Motoko? She is almost exclusively a warrior, but is there some other part of her, one that is softer and more caring?

Of course there is, only she keeps that part hidden behind a barrier stronger than a thousand pieces of nanomaterial armour.

I returned the sheets to their previous hiding place and rearranged everything back to the way it was. I had stayed far too long. It was time to move out. Moving back to the trapdoor, I got in and moved once again. I followed yet another tunnel and kept moving in another random direction. Where I'd end up – I had no idea.

Suddenly, my motion tracker spiked. Something was moving. Worse, it was close by, and _close by_ translated into 'directly inside the tunnel I'm crawling in.' I had to move – _now_. I crawled along and made it to another exit. The object covering it was a wall hanging, which I pushed out of the way and exited out of. At the same time, I checked my thermals – nothing came up, yet.

Which room did I exit into? Judging from my now-updated map, I was on the same floor as Motoko's room. This room was also neat and tidy. Strangely, I recognized the place, in particular, the location of the window, and also the yellow stuffed animal on the floor.

Of course – this was Naru's room. I remember the last time I was here – last night, when hiding from Motoko. I never got a good look at her room last time, and now I had a better chance. Her room was just as neat and tidy as Motoko's, but on the other hand, her room felt more modern. In particular, there were a lot of shelves in her room, all jammed back with books. There were a few stuffed animals here and there, but otherwise, all books.

I picked a shelf and looked over it – the entire shelf was loaded with textbooks and study guides. It wasn't restricted to only that shelf, but almost all the others were also filled with others. If I had to guess, Naru was a student or academic, but hell, 'student' wasn't even a word to describe the sheer volume of study material in her room. Naru looked about seventeen, and therefore, she was likely to in high school. When I was still in high school, I barely had books on my shelves. Then again, all my study material was all electronic, and one digital storage unit equalled several textbooks.

A small table sat in the other section of her room. A trio of textbooks occupied the spaces in the corners, while a notebook and sheets of paper covered the centre. I walked over to them and took a look, finding only numbers and long calculations.

It looked like calculus, or trigonometry, or some other type of mathematics. I don't know – it all looked the same to me. I never liked math. I was more of an English and history person than anything else. The vast quantity of written numbers and words on the single sheet of paper baffled me. I thought I'd seen the worst in my day – I almost pity Naru, and any other students from this time era.

The presence of the study material seemed contradictory to the type of person Naru appeared to be. Her fiery attitude, her incredibly powerful punch – had there been a punching bag in here I wouldn't have been surprised, but sadly, no, which left me wondering more about her. Her attitude and strength screamed 'brute' but her looks, her long and gorgeous hair with the two antenna-like strains, and the amount of books and material in her room said something else.

Was she an unruly and perpetually pissed off brute only wanting to beat anybody in her path, or just a shy girl?

Regardless of the person she is underneath, I had to stay away from her. Aside from Motoko, Naru was the most dangerous individual I could risk an encounter with. I had to be careful. Of course, in addition to either Motoko or Naru, there was also Haruka. I walked over to the window and peeked out. I spotted her out in front of the main entrance, sweeping path out in front. Luckily, she was facing away from the front of the inn, so she couldn't possible see me.

Haruka was definitely one to watch out for. Her proficiency with firearms, made evident by the tight groupings she fired at me last night, was proof alone of how well trained she was. What struck me as quite odd was how monotone and mellow she was. When she had her gun pointed at me last night, she spoke to me without fear and with an unnervingly calm demeanour. Even when I held her nephew hostage and had a huge assault rifle pointed at her, she made her demands without worrying about any of that.

There was much more to her. I had the strange feeling that I had only seen the tip of the iceberg about Haruka – and that worried me. I was tempted and quite curious to ask where she had gotten her training from. The way she held her weapon and her accuracy suggested at least some degree of paramilitary training. Hell, she could have even served in the military during the past, but that seemed unlikely in my opinion.

Then again, I could be wrong.

My motion tracker then picked up a signal, very close to the room. I switched on my thermal vision and spotted two people walking towards the door. One of their outlines matched that of Naru.

I had to get out.

I tried to get back into the tunnel, but I found two more thermal signatures moving in from that location. If I had to guess, Su and Sarah were closing in.

I swore mentally, shouting more curses and swears than I would ever do.

It did nothing, however, to ease the rainstorm of sweat dripping down my back. Of course, the drugs kept that under control, but even so, I was in a very bad situation. I looked out the window – damn it, Haruka was there. If I tried to climb out, I'd be spotted by her instantly. My three exits – the door, the tunnel, and the window, were all covered.

Was this it? Was I going to be captured here and now, while stuck inside somebody's room? Was I going to be beaten and then interrogated? Was I condemned here for no reason, a soldier at the wrong place and time?

I looked down at the yellow stuffed animal. _What are you smiling at?_ Seriously, what animal is it supposed to be - bear, squirrel? It was the same one I accidentally kicked over last night and almost got me killed. How was I to know that it would make a squeaking sound? On the plus side, I didn't know about the trapdoor under it and that turned out to be a life saver…

Wait a minute – trapdoor?

Well, the same stuffed animal that I couldn't tell what it was supposed to be was going to save my life a second time. It sat on top of a wooden board, which I quickly kicked aside. Turns out, the 'trapdoor' wasn't much of one, rather just a hole. It was small, but just barely wide enough for me to slip through with my equipment.

For once, I'm thankful I didn't leave base camp with a full rucksack.

I then hopped down through the hole and down below. I was now one floor below Naru, Su, and Sarah. The increased distance wasn't going to help me out completely and bring me into the clear, but it helped – a lot.

"Narusegawa?"

I then froze as I heard a voice. I redirected my gaze to the desk and the person sitting at it. It had to have taken me less than a second, after realising there was a hole down to the room below, to formulate my plan and proceed with it. During that time, I had neglected to check the room with my thermal vision.

And because of that, I found myself staring at Keitaro.

His back was turned, but he had managed to turn around just quickly enough to catch sight of me. His response was pretty much the exact same as all the other times he has spotted me – eyes bugging out and jaw hanging several inches.

I acted based on instinct. I raised my rifle and got him in the chest. It was a second and a half later before I realized I had shot Keitaro. The stun rounds were still loaded in my rifle. Seeing how Keitaro lacked any ability to stop or deflect the rounds, unlike Motoko, he was an easy target. Keitaro froze in place as soon as the round struck him, four hundred kilovolts of electricity passed through his body. He shuddered for a moment, and then fell forward on his face with a solid _thud_.

Keeping my rifle on him, I advanced forward. Was shooting him necessary? Come to think about it, shooting him was necessary. I certainly couldn't hold him hostage yet again, and expect to walk out safely. Once I reached his unconscious body, I flipped him over, found the small piece of metal pinned on his chest and plucked it off, dropping it into a pouch when I finished. I couldn't afford to leave behind any evidence that I had attacked Keitaro – _again_.

So, this was his room? In contrast to the others, it was quite dull and had very little personality. Naru's room had her books and Motoko had her traditional Japanese décor and her swords, and Keitaro's room just had everything scattered around. Still, his room was located in a strange place. I remember that it was his head that popped through the hole last night, and then forced an unfortunate encounter with Naru's fist. I made sure to mark the location of his room on my map. I then glanced over the papers and open textbook on his desk. Curiously, they too, were study material. In Naru's room, she was studying math, Keitaro, on the other hand, was studying English.

Curiously, I looked over his notes and the work he was doing. Most of it was wrong and grammatically incorrect. Well, not 'most of it', but rather, _all_ of it. I couldn't be completely harsh with Keitaro for doing so, since English isn't his first language, but given the amount of notes he had and the amount of writing, he should have been able to at least get some of it right.

Keitaro was somewhat of an interesting character. From what I have seen so far, he was the only male resident of Hinata Inn, excluding myself now, of course. Given the type of people around him, most would say that he was very fortunate – one guy amongst several women. Most people I know would dream for this type of situation. Then again, it does seem as though he meets Naru's fist quite a fair bit, or at least a rather overwhelming degree of abuse.

And all of that didn't seem to even hurt him. He was sent flying through the air by Naru's fist and the most he seems to get is a sore back. He gets hit by an apparent energy weapon, which I needed to take a look at next time, and he's still fine. I practically run over him and hit him in the back, point blank, with a ring airfoil round, and he's still fine. Was this guy invincible? Part of me told me to get a genetic sample from him when I have the chance – there had to be some type of gene that was doing this. The thought of invincible soldiers brought a nice, warm feeling with it.

Genetics and invincibility aside, I took note of his desk. Interesting – both Naru and Keitaro had a large amount of schoolwork and study material present. Neither Motoko nor Su, with her jungle of a room, had anywhere near the amount of schoolwork present. What were Naru and Keitaro doing then? What were they forcing themselves to study so hard for?

I had no time to figure that out. I had to keep moving. I could hear footsteps from Naru's room above. Either Naru or Su and Sarah had come in, and they would undoubtedly notice the open hole. I made my way to the door, and took a half second to scan the outside with my thermal. With that done, I got out. I needed to lay low for awhile. I had no idea how far the kitchen was from here, so I took my chances.

I immediately got out of his room. Looking back at his door, I then noticed a sign hung over the top of his door – 'Manager: Urashima Keitaro'. Keitaro was the manager of the inn? Well, that was quite interesting. That would explain why he was the only male resident here. Ignoring it, I walked a few metres down beside Keitaro's room. I then found myself opening another door and walking into another room.

This room – I remember it. When Naru sent me crashing through the floor and walls, I ended here. This was the fox's room. Funny, I knew everybody else's name, but the drunk and curvaceous fox was still unknown to me. Her room was far different from the others, and the look of it screamed 'modern.' Banners adorned with giant Japanese characters mixed with English letters graced part of one wall, while the other had a long shelf proudly displaying a collection of beer and sake bottles. Actually, there were a lot of them in her room, so many that the fox's room reeked of alcohol. In the middle of the room was a small table, apparently constructed from a glass pane with three wooden barrels beneath it. Simple, yet highly expressive for the type of person the fox appeared to be.

This girl, whom I only referred to as 'the fox,' was an interesting one. So far, my impressions were that she was extremely laidback. I'd go as far as to even say she has a drinking problem. The sheer number of bottles in her room was more than enough evidence for that. If I had to take a wild guess, she'd be right at home with a company of soldiers on leave with their nanites switched off.

Carefree, laidback…this fox was an interesting person. I wasn't much of a shrink, but her drinking problem suggested something. More chances than naught, anybody who drinks an inordinate amount of alcohol is doing so for a reason. In this case, what was hers? Of course, she could also be just a bit of a party girl, but I had a strange suspicion, as with all the other residents, that were was another part to her.

…

So far, my attempted analysis of the residents wasn't working as I was hoping, but at least I've now seen all the residents of Hinata Inn and mapped out their rooms on my map. Looking around her room, I wondered if there was another tunnel entrance around here. Much to my misfortune, I didn't think of that when entering.

I now found myself standing inside a girl's room with absolutely no idea where to go now. There had to be some type of entrance in this room – so far, the pattern was with a hole hidden behind some random piece of cover, or a trapdoor style panelling. I started my search, starting by pulling up any loose posters or coverings. Damn it – nothing. There had to be something, some loose panelling, or even a discoloured section of wall, something to help me get out of here.

I began moving some of the boxes around, trying to find some way out, when I accidentally opened one of them. Next thing I knew, I found myself staring at something…peculiar. Taking a closer look, I realized it was clothes. Well, actually, _women's _clothes. Well, to be more specific, women's _underclothing_.

…

I'll cut to the chase – I was staring at the foxy girl's lacy red brassiere.

Conveniently located right next to it was a matching pair of red underwear. Actually to be more politically correct, a matching red _thong_.

…

Well, this was all extremely unexpected. I shut the box and resumed my search. I had to admit, the racy choice in underclothing was worth noting. Upon seeing that, several conclusions could be made about her. But my conclusions would have to wait – I still needed to find some way out of here.

Pushing aside the boxes, I then spotted a suspicious piece of panelling. It was somewhat discoloured, and closer inspection would allow one to see that it was perhaps removable. I unsheathed a combat knife and dug into an edge. With a slight pivoting motion, I was able to move the panel.

Below it was a long dark tunnel. It was small, but was just wide enough for me to slide through.

Bingo – my exit.

I was lucky to have found it quickly enough – my motion tracker picked up movement, and its thermal signature matched that of the fox, and she was heading this way. I got into the tunnel and slid feet first all the way down. When my feet touched the bottom of the tunnel, I reoriented myself and crawled along. The tunnel here was very small, so small, that I had to resort to crawling on my stomach in order to get through. While I had a strange and almost unexplainable fear of dolls, I was lucky not to have one of small spaces.

My slow crawl continued on. According to the diagrams and maps that I had, I was moving far from the old tunnel I had located from before. If so, I was crawling into unknown territory. This didn't bother me all too much, since I needed to find a new tunnel to possibly hide in anyways. I was quite intrigued about the number of tunnels that ran inside and below Hinata Inn. Not only were they of great length, but they were of incredible complexity as well. The tunnels under Hinata Inn were more than enough to put a mid-twentieth century Vietcong tunnel network to shame. And that was saying a lot – even into the twenty-second century, tunnel networks in the middle of a battlefield never reached the number and complexity of those during the now ancient Vietnam War.

As my crawl continued for what felt like the better part of an hour, I began to hear noises. They were close by, from the sounds of it. Interesting – what noises could I possible be hearing _here_? My audio sensors picked up and analyzed the sounds – it cross referenced the audio stream with stored data, and matched it with running water.

Was there running water near my position? If so, this was an interesting place to find an underground river or something. I had crawled forward only a metre or so before I began to realize the ground was getting softer, and that the noises were getting louder. Was I getting closer? If I was, is getting closer necessarily a good thing?

I had no time to ponder that question just as the floor of the tunnel below me gave way. I found myself in freefall for a split second, which ended quickly when I hit something with a loud _splash!_ Within moments, I was being propelled along by a rapid stream of water.

There actually was an underground river here. Why it was here, I did not want to ask why. Hell, I didn't want to ask why for most of the strange occurrences I've found at Hinata Inn so far.

The river flowed in one direction, and I let it carry me along. I didn't need to worry about drowning, thanks to my equipment. Especially after I recovered my helmet, I've returned to my usual habit of keeping my facemask up and over my face and nose at all times. My facemask was not merely a piece of cloth-like material to keep my face warm or to keep up with the 'robotic soldier' image – it was actually made of semi-reinforced material similar to my outer layer of soft armour, with a smooth woven inner layer for comfort. The outer material, like the rest of the suit I wore was waterproof. Along very top of the mask and on the inside surface was a small colony of nanomachines, not unlike the others I already had. When my facemask was in position over my face, these nanomachines create a firm seal with the skin below my eyes and on top of my nose that would not allow anything through. The other nanomachines in the inside surface of my mask could reposition themselves to either give full, free passage of air through my mask, or close it off completely to prevent anything from passing.

As soon as I hit the water, they closed off my mask. With the seal in place, and with a few tanks of auto-refilling oxygen now being channelled into my mask, I was able to operate underwater without risk of drowning. It was but one of the many things that made the Commonwealth soldier the pinnacle of military supremacy. Like the US Navy SEALs of the twentieth century, we too could operate sea, air, and land.

Hell, we can do it better.

The flowing current carried me along, and eventually, I found myself shot out and floundering about in calm waters. When I regained control, I swam for the surface and emerged with water beading and rolling off my armour. I then looked around, trying to figure out where this underground river had taken me. I was hoping it wasn't some lake outside of Hinata Inn, but if so, I hoped it was close enough to the building. Thankfully, I recognized the familiar colours and designs of the walls around the area.

Taking another look, I realized I knew this place. It was the outdoor hot springs. I was here the day before, when I was getting my ass handed to me by Naru's fist and Motoko's sword. I carefully looked around me, making sure at least they weren't here. Lucky for me, they weren't.

I got out of the hot springs and moved on. Judging from the sky above me, I was probably down in the tunnel for a longer amount of time than I had thought. The sun looked as though it was ready to call it quits for the day. It wasn't dusk just yet, but if I had to guess, it would be in another two hours.

I made my way for the door. I had to get back to the tunnel and hunker down for a bit. My hand had barely reached the handle of the door when my motion tracker picked up something moving in from behind. Turning around, I spotted nothing. A second later, something came drifting down into view. As my eyes took notice of the new arrival, I realized it was a turtle. The shell was quite a giveaway. The turtle glided and then came to a gentle landing on the bottom of its green shell.

…

Wait a minute, could turtles _fly_?

No, it didn't fall off a high edge or something – this turtle actually glided in and landed much like a small aeroplane. Actually, it seemed to have near VTOL-type flight control, as it flew in and came to a sudden yet elegant landing. Its forward pair of arms, or flippers, was quite long and was also shaped like a set of wings. Then again, they looked more able to glide _underwater_. As for gliding in the air…it looked impossible. The turtle then turned around and stopped as it spotted me. Its mouth then opened, forming a noticeable smile.

Wait a minute, could turtles _smile_?

Come to think about it, this wasn't any type of turtle I had ever seen before. Its skin was of a fair yellow shade and even its shell was of a single green colour only. I wasn't much of a zoologist, but I swear, this turtle's traits were unique and almost alien. Even the shape of its head and the way of which it was able to smile at me looked unlike anything I had yet to identify. I was tempted to think it was technically an undiscovered species, perhaps wiped out before The War started? The turtle continued to smile at me. It then raised one of its flippers into the air, as though trying to wave.

"Myu!"

…

_Wait-just-one-freaking-minute-here_…could turtles _talk_?

"Myu? Myu!"

The turtle continued to chirp at me while waving its flipper. I continued to stare at it, dumbstruck over how it was perhaps even possible. Turtles couldn't talk…right?

"Myu!"

Okay, maybe it was possible. This turtle did appear to me as quite friendly. The way it smiled and waved told me that it was at least alright with me being here, unlike the other residents. Then again, assuming the only means of speech possible from it were squeaks and chirps, it wasn't that much of an improvement.

"Myu!"

"Uh…hi."

It was indeed quite awkward – I was trying to talk to an animal. All throughout my life, I've never had a pet before. As a result, my ability to handle animals was somewhat…stunted. In this case, I was with an undiscovered species of turtle capable of basic speech and flight. What was I supposed to do?

"Hi, my name is Sergeant Randall," I greeted, albeit quite awkwardly. "What's yours?"

"Myu! Myu!"

I had the strange suspicion this turtle was only capable of one type of sound. As such, communication was going to be difficult. Then again, it at least knew basic body motion – it continued to wave its flipper. Seeing how I had no other way to talk to it, I waved back. For a moment, I thought of how ridiculous I looked. I was a heavily armoured soldier, waving to a small, talking turtle.

"Myu!" the turtle returned, also waving.

The process of waving at each other continued. By the tenth or eleventh waving of my hand, I started to smile. I had to admit, this turtle was quite adorable. It wasn't as slimy looking as a regular turtle and it sure as hell didn't give the impression that it would pass along salmonella poisoning. As part of this newly found comfort zone, I tried something new. I stood tall and straightened my back, and I gave the turtle a salute.

The turtle looked at me curiously for a bit. It probably didn't know what I was doing. Hell, even I didn't know what I was doing. I was saluting a turtle, for goodness sakes. Well into the 22nd century, most regiments have stopped using animal mascots, which negated the soldiers from saluting any animal with an apparent rank higher than themselves.

"Myu?" the turtle chirped, curious to my new posture. It then returned the salute, smiling happily as before. "Myu! Myu!"

This was going well. The two of us stood there, saluting to each other. I eased off, and then got back to trying to get the door open. As I did, my motion tracker picked up a new pair of contacts. I turned back around – damn it, they were also behind me. Looking back down at the ground, the turtle also seemed to know they were coming. Its once happy smile and face had turned to a horrified moan. The turtle quickly lifted itself into the air and fluttered away with the pacing and speed equal to that of a scared bird.

I decided it was in my best interests to get my ass inside and behind the door as quickly as possible. The inside was clear, thank goodness. From the looks of the place, it was the changing room. It was at the doorway when I had technically met Naru, and her fist. It was an improvement from being outside, but now that I was here, I needed to get out as soon as possible. The thought of being ambushed while inside a changing room was not pleasant.

I did, however, take some time to listen in on what was happening outside. My thermal vision picked up the two new contacts. Their size and signatures matched those of Su and Sarah.

"_Hey! Aren't we supposed to be looking for the soldier?"_

"_I know, but Tama-chan is here! I can finally catch and get a taste of her!"_

"_No! Stop trying to eat turtle!"_

That was definitely Su and Sarah outside. But that was the least that was on my mind. Did I just hear Su right? Did I just hear her say she was going to _eat_ the turtle? I now saw my salute with the turtle, a female one apparently named Tama-chan, with more meaning. _God speed, good turtle, God speed_. She was facing the bleak and overwhelmingly frightful situation of being consumed by Su.

On the other hand, it was providing me with a great window of escape.

I was mere moments from leaving the door and entering the rest of the building when my motion tracker picked up additional contacts. My thermal vision helped me to pick them out behind the wall, closing in – fast. From the looks of it, Naru, the fox, and Motoko were going in for a bath.

_Shit!_

I had nowhere to go. I couldn't risk venturing outside, with Su and Sarah possibly hanging around there. I wasn't concerned by the fox, but Naru and Motoko alone were enough to tell me that I needed to act – now. The changing room had very little cover to hide behind, not that cover even helped. There had to be some place I could slip into. I frantically searched the area, and my answer came when I found a small closet, tucked away in the corner. It didn't take me long to open it up and hop inside. The closet was cramped, barely enough for me to fit in. Somehow, I managed. My assault rifle poked out a bit, but it was fine.

Outside, I could hear the doors open as the three gorgeous women stepped in. I pulled out my fibre optic camera and slid it out through a small crack in the door. Sure enough there they were…disrobing.

I couldn't be any more thankful for the nanites that were in operation inside my body right about now. Otherwise, it would have made for a rather awkward situation.

"Maybe he just fell asleep, y'know?" the fox said, continuing part of the conversation the three were in just moments before.

"He was lying there drooling, with a picture of me right next to him!" Naru angrily replied. "And he even wet himself in his own sleep as well! What sort of dirty, perverted thoughts was that idiot thinking about?"

"I do not trust Urashima," Motoko said firmly, as she removed her clothes. I didn't notice it before, but I'm now sure she was actually wearing a hakama. It seemed to suit her quite fell, I might add.

"You must be careful around him, Naru-sempai, even if you two are studying together."

"Maybe he just likes you…" the fox then commented as she neared Naru and lightly tapped her side with her elbow. It was hard to tell, but I swear, both of the fox's eyes were opened, and her arched eyebrows suggested she was implying something.

"Kitsune! Keitaro's just a pervert!"

They were talking about Keitaro, that's for sure. Come to think about it, the stun rounds do send a pretty hefty voltage into the body on contact – often for somebody being shot the first time, the voltage can screw around with the muscles just enough that the victim may unintentionally release any bodily fluids or waste.

I suppose Keitaro had woken up discovering he had wet himself during that process. I wasn't sure whether to feel nothing, or to be amused by that development.

Keitaro wetting himself aside, I now knew the fox's name – Kitsune. Interesting, since the word 'kitsune' referred to a fox, which was what she was.

Keitaro, Naru, Motoko, Shinobu, Su, Sarah, Kitsune, Haruka, and Tama-chan – nine individuals that I have made contact with. Eight of them live in the building, and of those eight, four were major threats to me. This group of nine were easily the most offbeat and most distinct group of people I have ever met. I've met myriads of soldiers and individuals during my time in the military, but even an entire company of them could not match the zaniness that these nine had with them.

Interestingly, I found myself watching the three women change. Kitsune easily had the largest bust of the three. It wasn't just her bust that caught my attention, but also her long legs and creamy white thighs. Her figure was simply amazing. Her choice in underwear was a step up from the rather provocative set from her room, but it did little to hide her impressive figure. Naru had a smaller frame and her body shape and profile was on the slender side. She wasn't as openly curvaceous as Kitsune, nor did she have the large bust. However, her sizes definitely weren't insignificant. In the end, Naru was simply beautiful when considering her body and her lovely face. Unlike Kitsune, Naru's choice in underclothing was normal – white bra and panties, not much of a surprise, since Naru didn't seem to be as 'showy' as her friend. Motoko surprised me quite a bit. Her hakama actually hid her figure almost too well. Without it, the shape of her hips became more pronounced and full. Interestingly, she did not wear a bra, but rather, she wore a wrapping that kept her breast bundled down. Without the bindings, her chest was actually much larger than first glance. Motoko was smaller than Kitsune, but larger than Naru.

In normal circumstances, anybody standing in the same spot I currently am would consider this heaven. Who could possibly not enjoy staring at three beautiful women disrobe? Unfortunately, all I could do is merely watch on with neither desire nor lust.

Upon enlisting with the Commonwealth military, all recruits are put through a boot camp that trains them physically and prepares them for service. After passing all that and officially becoming a Private First Class, soldiers receive their injections and implants. Devices are installed all throughout the soldier's body and injections containing nanites are made. The nanites, working along with the installed devices, allow them to administer drugs for multiple uses, or simply 'rewire' certain responses and such. One area that the nanites are programmed to take affect on is our sex drive, by suppressing it. Recent brushfire conflicts prior to The War have found that soldiers were susceptible to sexually transmitted infections, and that often, some would take part in activities of a negative nature in regards to the image of their military force. It worked perfectly, seeing how nothing terrible has happened to Commonwealth soldiers yet, but it has its own disadvantages. Namely, the nanites became an object of spite amongst the soldiers, and the whole idea of sex suddenly became a joke.

Currently, my best bet was to wait until they finished changing and then slip out. It shouldn't be too hard – how long could they take to change?

"Is there a spare towel around here?" Kitsune asked, unable to find one.

"They should be in the closet back there" Motoko replied, pointing towards the corner.

Her finger pointed towards the closet _I_ was in. I looked around, and realized there were towels inside _this_ closet. Kitsune then started to walk towards my position.

This was bad – _very_ bad.

I pushed all the towels forward and tried to squeeze back into the closet as far as possible. Maybe I could stuff enough towels in front of me, and Kitsune would just take one and go. Her eyes weren't opened that much, maybe she'd miss me. I kept pushing myself farther back. I could hear the door open as Kitsune grabbed a towel. She then stopped, both of her eyes suddenly opening.

I was spotted…_shit_!

Suddenly, I felt myself fall backwards. I then found myself in freefall. Was there a tunnel located _inside _the closet? As I rapidly fell farther from where the back of the closet logically was, I realised I must have accidentally forced it opened when I kept moving back. Was this an unexplained and illogical occurrence, a deus ex machina, or merely a lucky break?

Whatever it was, it was great. I was just spotted by Kitsune, and now I had gotten away.

Suddenly, I came to a sudden stop. My back took the brunt of the fall, leaving me to look up at where I had fallen from. This was the bottom of the tunnel I dropped into. I took little time to roll around and crawl, getting as far as possible. There was no doubt Kitsune had warned Naru and Motoko that I was hiding there. If so, Hell hath no fury like two pissed off women ready to kill.

Again, I had come upon a new tunnel not on any of my maps. Figures, given my luck so far, I had yet to suddenly drop into a tunnel and recognize where it was and where it would lead to. I had to move along this one and hope that it would lead somewhere. The though of having to crawl through unknown lengths of underground tunnelling for so long was not pleasant, but it was surely better than having to face off against both Naru and Motoko.

I pressed on. There wasn't much worth describing about the small tunnel – it's dark, cramped, and occasionally, thoughts of claustrophobia flashed through my head. Again, I wasn't claustrophobic, but the thought of the tunnel collapsing on me was always present. It was all normal. Joining the military had shown me that fear was always present. Whether it was in the small things, such as whether I remembered to bring the spare ammo or the maps, or fear for my own life and being killed, fear was always there. Hell, there was definitely the fear of things not going the right way – enemy soldiers suddenly appearing where they shouldn't, equipment suddenly failing, hostages and demands being made out of the blue…

Accidentally travelling 146 years back in time…

There wasn't anything a soldier could do about it. To quote the popular mantra amongst soldiers and individuals for as long as time itself – 'shit happens.' It was the way war and battle always operated in. Everything was random and unpredictable. The best anybody can do is prepare as best as they can, go in calm and ready, and when the shit really hits the fan, keep their head on straight and make it out alive.

That's what I needed in order to survive _this_.

It was a long crawl before I came to somewhat of a dead end. The end of the tunnel was a massive disappointment, seeing how I certainly did not want to have to crawl back around, but a closer inspection showed it was covered only by a loose wooden board. I pushed at it just enough to dislodge it, and I crawled out of the tunnel.

I was expecting to find myself back underground, in yet another new section of tunnel, but instead, I was inside a small closet. After checking the area, I opened the door and walked out. From the looks of the hallway I had stepped out into, I was on the first floor. Well, it was better than nothing. I suppose I could make my way to the kitchen to get back to safety.

Pulling up my map, I marked its location and followed it. After travelling around for a bit, I had come to the front foyer. I could recognize the shape and look of the foyer – I have been there twice already, back in my own time, and on the first day when I was running from Motoko. From my position in the hallway leading there, I could see outside, where the sun had looked as though it had mostly set. I had spent a long time crawling in the tunnel and the night was nearing. The kitchen wasn't far. I was about to exit the hallway and enter the foyer, when I picked up several thermal signatures.

To be precise, there were eight signatures in total – all of the residents were gathered in the foyer. From the looks of how they were arranged, there was a table in the corner of the foyer and they were all seated or around there. Trying to cross the foyer was now turned into a nearly impossible task.

"We couldn't find him, and we looked everywhere." Sarah was addressing everybody there.

"Where could he be hiding at? Are you sure you checked everywhere?" Motoko asked. Her voice was firm and decisive, and it was as though there was a tactician in her.

"We checked all the tunnels that we know about," Su explained. She didn't sound all too serious, but rather a mix of energetic and lazy. "We found three new ones, but no sign of the evil soldier."

"You must find him!" Naru shouted. "We don't know how dangerous he can be."

"I agree with Naru-sempai," Motoko continued. "He was _watching_ Kitsune, Naru, and I while we were changing. He is as vile, perverted, and immoral as Urashima."

"Hey, hey, hey, what's with the personal attacks?" I could see, but I had the feeling Keitaro was squirming from what Motoko had just said.

"He was w-w-w-watching?" Shinobu asked. Her voice was especially fearful.

"All of us must all remain vigilant. This soldier is well armed and could be extremely dangerous," Motoko continued again, her words so carefully chosen to be as negative towards me as possible. "He may try to assault any one of us if we let our guard down."

"Uh, Motoko, could you stop that?" Keitaro's voice was feeble, and somewhat apologetic. "You're scaring Shinobu."

"Haruka-san, what do you think?" Kitsune asked.

"These are really strange circumstances." As usual, Haruka's voice was calm and difficult to pick apart for emotions. "There's no doubt this soldier is very well trained. Trying to capture him won't be easy."

"But we have to do something!" Naru urged. "We can't let somebody like that lurk here! Shouldn't we get help or something?"

"True, but who would we call? The police? The Japanese military? The _United States Marines Corps_?" Haruka asked, somewhat amused.

"We should contact the military at least," Keitaro added, "Maybe let them know they have a soldier missing and that he's been hiding here."

The residents continued their conversation. I have to admit, I was somewhat flattered that they were talking about me. However, they did mention calling in the authority – be it the police or even military. That was bad news for me. Then again, Haruka did have a point – even if they were going to call in somebody, who would they even call?

Hell, considering that I was a soldier from an organization yet to exist, how would all that even work?

Their conversation continued on, but was interrupted when I heard a familiar chirping sound. Suddenly flying into view was Tama-chan, the turtle. She landed straight ahead of my position in the middle of the foyer.

"Oooh, did you come to let me eat you, Tama-chan?" Su asked in a hungry voice.

"Wait, did we feed Tama-chan yet?" Keitaro asked all of a sudden, seemingly unaware that the turtle was going to be made into a meal for Su.

Tama-chan then looked in my direction. As soon as the turtle had seen me, she smiled. Wait a second…this was bad. If Tama-chan could see me, would she reveal my location to the others?

"Wait, what's Tama-chan doing?" Naru asked.

Don't do it…don't do it…don't do it…I hoped Tama-chan would not do it. I tried to signal to her not to wave, or do anything…

"Myu!" Tama-chan happily chirped, raising a flipper in a salute.

…

_SHIT_.

"What's that?" Shinobu asked, puzzled as everybody else in the foyer was. "Is that a…a…"

"A _salute_?" Haruka said, finishing Shinobu's sentence.

I could hear a shuffling of feet and bodies. They knew I was here now. I tried to think over my options. I could drop a flashbang, or I could just run. But they were too close. I had my stun rounds. Maybe I could lure them into the hallway and take them down one by one. I could make for the kitchen and the tunnel entrance there. I could double back to the rooms and find the tunnel entrances there. I could do lots of things, but I had to get away, I had to…

"Hold fire, I'm coming out."

I could run, but I had run for too long. The noose was tightening, and it was now time. Was this the right choice? Tactically speaking, was it smart to surrender myself, especially to a group of civilians from a different time era? And especially to a group of people who already wanted to kill me?

Of course not, but I was too close to their location. They would either catch me on the run, or catch up to me and figure out where I have been hiding at. Trying to get away now would only make the whole situation even hairier. I figure this is it – this is my solution on how to coexist.

I was going to hand myself in.

Was I going to regret this decision? I certainly hope not. I wasn't sure how long I was going to remain here, but I felt I had no choice. With my back to the wall and all exits blocked, surrender seemed to a good idea. I had no regrets. These were civilians and people that I did not hate nor dislike. If it were a squad of Bloc infantry, I'd frag them here and now.

Generally speaking, I wasn't surrendering – merely, apologizing for has happened, and trying to reconcile with the residents. After that, I could continue on without any sort of pressure or fear to keep hiding. I made sure my rifle was slung down in front of me, hopefully to make a peaceful gesture that I wasn't going to harm them. I walked out into the foyer with my hands in the air. Eight pairs of eyes stared at me as I moved in. Even Kitsune's fox-like eyes were wide open as she watched me. Keitaro, Naru, and Shinobu's mouths were wide open, shocked over what was happening.

All of them were shocked. They had only known that I was here, but they had not actually seen me this close. With my armour, I was a six-and-a-half foot, nigh-robotic soldier more horrifying than anything the residents of Hinata Inn had ever seen. To remove that image, in the hopes that they would see me as a normal human being, I removed my helmet, revealing my face to them.

"Listen, I apologize for what has happened so far since my arrival here," I began, talking to them in Japanese. The residents stared at me in even more shock – they probably didn't expect a Caucasian to talk to them in almost perfectly fluent Japanese. "I am a soldier, and I require assistance."

I walked closer to the table they all were sitting around at. Luckily, nobody freaked out. Shinobu, frozen and almost petrified in fear, slowly shifted away. I let her go. She was probably the most frightened of what was currently going on. She slowly shuffled away from the foyer, trying to get as far from this as possible. I had gotten close to the edge of the table when I stopped. I looked into the eyes of all the other residents. Mostly everybody was shocked. Only Haruka and Motoko were different, Haruka being calm, and Motoko being cautious. She had her sword, and she kept one hand on its hilt, ready to strike.

"You must understand, I can explain everything. I'm not from around here, and I require a bit of help…"

Suddenly, something hard struck the back of my head. The hit caught me off guard, and I collapsed to the ground. I groaned in pain for a moment, blinking and trying to recover. My vision was blurred, and I didn't feel like getting back up. Worse, my head hurt like hell. I could see Shinobu coming closer, looking over me. In her hands was a large frying pan, which she held onto with a death grip. If I had to guess, that same frying pan was the one that got me. Out of all the others, Naru with her punch, Motoko with her sword, Haruka with her gun - Shinobu was the one who had taken me down.

Suddenly, everybody else was on top of me. Su and Sarah leaned in close to stare at my armour, finally being able to see it close up in detail. Kitsune stood idly by, watching me, and as did Keitaro. His gaze was filled with surprise and confusion. He was looking at the same person who had attack him many times by now.

Naru, Motoko, and Haruka reacted differently. Naru had her foot on top of my chest, keeping me pinned to the ground. Haruka did the same, but in addition to that, she had her Browning out and aimed at my face. Motoko had her sword unsheathed with the blade hovering dangerously close to my neck.

"So, what do we do with the soldier now?" Su asked, somewhat anxious for an answer.

"Interrogation would be a good idea," Haruka replied, her voice, again, without any sort of emotion. "But first…Naru, would you like to do the honours?"

"Sure."

Naru then lifted her foot from my chest. She then brought it down on my face with such speed and force. I then blacked out, thrown head first and violently into the realm of unconsciousness. It was clear what was going to happen to me – I was going to be interrogated by the angry residents of Hinata Inn. If I had to guess it would involve a fair bit of torture. Whatever the case, I made my decision, I'll stick by it, and I will not regret making that decision. It was too late to reconsider, and as my experience goes, I won't sit around whining about 'what if.'

The only thing I could do now was survive.


	4. Regret Nothing

**Motion on a fourth dimensional plane**

Note: _Egad_...I really took my sweet time on this one...

Writer's block sucks ass. I struggled writing this chapter, and I continue to do so for Eve of Fate. I could partly blame having been accidentally introduced to _Strawberry Panic!_ for my apparent lack of writing flair during the past week or two. Seriously, I never expected me to be suddenly so..._interested..._in an anime about lesbian schoolgirls. Not as much fanservice as one might expect, a few 'boner-inducing moments' here and there, but the series is sweet and cute in its own way. Great, now I'm hooked to that and kindly waiting for the next episodes.

Not much to say about this chapter - Sergeant Randall gets interrogated, almost exclusively by Naru and Motoko. Not as much torture as I expected, but a bit of flashback and introspection regarding Randall's character. I plan on a writing a few chapters like these - ones where he remembers his life, what came to be for him, his motives, and all the parts to define his character. Sergeant Randall is a character with an interesting background, from what I'm hoping to develop. He's a badass, but more of an intellectual badass, and I plan to develop that further. For now, he's going to have to survive an interrogation by the residents of Hinata Sou. Otherwise, not much is going on.

* * *

Chapter 4: Regret Nothing 

POW – prisoner of war.

I've been declared a prisoner of war once, three years back. I was serving in the most volatile and most hellish place on earth – the Ural Front.

The War began on June 23, 2142, after nearly ten years of sabre rattling and hollow threats between the Commonwealth and the Bloc. The main forces of the two sides met at the Ural Mountains, and The War began there. The Bloc came in with a nearly infinite supply of soldiers, while the Commonwealth met numbers with technological supremacy. In spite of whatever advancements either side had for use, The War turned into a stalemated, conventional war reminiscent of the First World War. Long trench lines were drawn and dug up, artillery was set up at whatever good vantage points possible, and worse, landmarks and important tactical locations were constantly being taken and retaken, hundreds to thousands of soldiers dying in the process for matters of feet and inches.

Within the first few weeks of fighting, the little saying 'I died at the Urals' suddenly became the only way to describe the intensity of fighting there and the affects on the soldiers. When first heard, the quote only seemed to refer to dying, but it had far greater meaning than merely death. The civilians would never understand it, but the shell-shocked faces of young men turning into soldiers in the thick mud and cold of the Ural Front would know exactly what it meant.

I knew exactly what it meant after being captured.

My unit was ordered to hold the recently secured city of Ufa. We were hit by a force of Bloc infantry possibly six times our size. Within the course of an hour, we had lost our position, lost half of our guys, and the remainder that included me was captured, while the lucky few were merely routed and escaped safely. I spent two months in a Bloc POW camp located inside the city of Chelyabinsk, before I was liberated by a fellow Commonwealth unit.

Something happened to me when I emerged from the camp, while the medic checked me over after a pair of soldiers carried my crippled and broken body out. I suddenly realized what the saying, 'I died in the Urals', meant. I rejoined my unit after a brief hiatus and continued to fight shortly after. From that point on, my beliefs and mindset was developed, and have stayed with me to this day.

Being captured yet again wouldn't make me fall into some state of post traumatic stress disorder – I wasn't traumatized _that_ much - but it brought back some memories. Interrogation and torture were bad enough, but I had yet to see how the residents of Hinata Inn would do this.

Did they have the guts to do torture? Well, probably. Come to think about it, they probably wouldn't have a problem with _killing_ me. I think the better question to ask was whether I was going to make it out of this alive. But hey, I survived two months in a Bloc POW camp – how bad was this going to be?

Should I have handed myself in, though? Was that the most tactically sound option? The Commonwealth had regulations that stated it was better if a soldier would not interact with civilians, but if unavoidable, interaction was accepted, so long as the soldier reports in and returns back to friendly units as soon as possible, lest they be charged for desertion. During that, Article 4-C comes into affect – I could interact, but I can't reveal any mission-specific intelligence. I had no problem with following those rules, but how would they apply now – when I'm in a completely different time era?

Screw the bureaucratic bullshit - what was there even to reveal? None of the information I knew would even apply to the residents.

Regulations aside, should I have done this? I'm not exactly on good terms with the residents anyways, and with all the incidents that have occurred, handing myself in didn't seem so good. Well, on the other hand, what choice did I have? I have nowhere else to go, I'm marooned more than a century in the past, and trying to constantly hide and evade the residents seemed unrealistic, especially seeing how I might be stuck here for awhile. Better to apologize, hand myself in, and stay low without worrying.

I'm morbidly curious, however. Assuming I survive all this and make it back to my time era, would these details be considered? Would there be another section added onto the Commonwealth Military Command's Procedures and Regulations Document that applied specifically towards random temporal displacements? Better yet, could I get it named after myself – the Randall Code, or some other long and fancy abbreviated title using my last name?

I started to chuckle. I was already going to be remembered for possibly being the first time traveller, but if I would also be remembered by such a thing, then hell, I'll go for it.

All in all, it was an entertaining thought. On the plus side, it would keep me at least partially entertained during this otherwise bleak situation. Thoughts such as that are normal for soldiers, more or less part of our strange sense of humour that develops after time. Nothing beat the good old 'Alert, alert, alert!' routine back at rifle qualification, though. The rule was, if your rifle jammed, you'd throw it on the ground, stand up and start flapping your arms screaming 'Alert, alert, alert!' while running around in circles.

For almost no reason whatsoever, that still cracks me up all the time. Whether it was because it was almost completely random or because we've jokingly told new soldiers that and watched them do that, I have yet to conclude.

The room I woke up in was small. The walls were wooden panelling, and other than a tiny lamp hanging form the ceiling, and the door in front of me, there was nothing else in the room. I was sitting in a chair located in the centre of the room. I tried to move – only to find that I was constrained to the chair. Thick ropes were wrapped around my chest and with the chair, with my hands tied behind my back. The chair wasn't secured to the floor, but my ankles were tied to the chair legs. I wouldn't be able to move if I truly wanted to.

Well, so far I had to give them credit for being able to prepare, at least. They had me secured in a small and isolated room – the near perfect conditions for an interrogation. They had gone a bit overboard on the ropes, but otherwise, almost near perfect. All they needed now was a small barred window in the corner somewhere, some dirt and shit on the floor, and they'd have a great interrogation room.

Or, at least that was what _my_ interrogation room at the POW camp was somewhat like, minus all the ropes.

From the feel of things, I still had my suit and my combat armour on. I had taken the liberty of removing my helmet when I had confronted the residents, as part of a friendly gesture. Unfortunately, that only meant having my head exposed for Shinobu to make a lucky hit. My weapons were gone – no surprise. I was thankful I still had my armour. It meant the residents didn't try to remove it, and because of that, the kill mechanisms in the suit didn't trigger, leaving me with an intact piece of Commonwealth military equipment. I preferred to stay in my suit, especially here. I was curious as to whether I still had my lighter equipment on me, but I was in no place to check.

The door then opened and the light above me shut off. A single bright beam of light then shined into my face. It took a moment for my retinas to recover. As I did, I then realized Kitsune's face was right next to mine. The bright spotlight, being directed entirely onto me, resulted in the area surrounding me to be left in darkness. Kitsune's fox-like face was shrouded in the dark, giving her a relatively unkind and evil appearance. I could hear shuffling in the room. Due to the lighting, I couldn't see them. If I had to guess, though, everybody else was coming in to interrogate me as well.

Suddenly, I felt something hit the side of my head. The force of the impact pushed the chair and I to the ground. Overtop of me stood Su, with her foot planted on my head. If I had to guess, it was her foot that got me.

"What did you do with Mecha-Tama-chan?" she demanded, her tone of voice definitely not threatening. Her actions, on the other hand, made up for that. She continued to apply pressure onto my head.

"Su, we'll worry about your Mecha-Tama later," a new voice, Haruka's, said. "We need to get some actual information out of him."

"Aw, but I couldn't find my Mecha-Tama – he must have reprogrammed it! He wants to use it against me!"

Su then kicked me in the face. Her Mecha-Tama…it was that robotic turtle thing that attacked me the other night. I hit it with a ring airfoil round and it flew deep into Su's room. She couldn't find it? Interesting, since I sure as hell didn't do anything to it other than shoot it. Su then eased off, and I then felt the chair be lifted up and off the ground and back into place.

"So, are you ready to talk?" Kitsune asked me. Her tone of voice was, on one side, cold and harsh, but on the other somewhat inquisitive and seductive. It suited her well.

"My name is Sergeant Randall. I'm a soldier from the Commonwealth-"

_SMACK!_

Suddenly, a hand flew out from practically nowhere and struck across my face. The side of my face stung from the strike and I felt my head recoil to the side. It wasn't a direct punch, but rather, the backside of somebody's hand. It felt strangely familiar, though. It was difficult to tell, but I could see the shape of somebody else standing there. It had to be Naru who hit me.

"We'll ask you the questions and you'll answer when we say you can, pervert!"

That was definitely Naru. Somehow, I had the feeling that single hit wasn't going to be the last one I was going to feel. Still, her calling me a 'pervert' was interesting. I suppose it had to do with me hiding in the changing room closet. I definitely needed to clear that one up as soon as possible.

"Answer Kitsune's question."

"Listen, this whole interrogation thing isn't really necessary, I can explain everything-"

_SMACK!_

"What did I just say?" Naru asked again, her voice slowly getting irate and impatient. I shrugged off the hit, reorienting myself as best I could. At this rate, I wouldn't be surprised if my jaw shatters or something. Oh well. I suppose all I could do in this position was play along.

"Yes, I'm ready to talk."

The first few minutes of an interrogation often presented you with what you were going to expect for the next while or so. Not necessarily what the entire interrogation was going to be like, but what the initial encounter was going to be. So far, it was physical force every time I either refuse to answer or if I suddenly stall. I wasn't surprised, but an interrogation starting with physical force means they would gradually increase the amount of punishment over time. Luckily, it also meant they would stop at a certain point and use more relaxed methods.

"Alright then," Kitsune began, leaning back into a chair. "What's your name?"

"Randall."

"First _and_ last name?" Naru then added.

Was I supposed to answer that? Didn't they already have my name? I really didn't want to answer that, personal reasons, actually. Should I answer it? Well, if I wanted to avoid another beating, then yes, but still…

I could see the outline of Naru raise a hand. I immediately braced myself.

"Hold up, Naru, we don't need to do that," Haruka's calm and emotionless voice then said. "We've already gotten his last name, and that's good enough already."

Naru then eased off. Good, I wasn't going to get hit, at least not now.

"What's your rank, soldier?" Haruka asked.

"Sergeant First Class."

"Serial number?"

Damn, Haruka actually knew what to ask. By sheer coincidence, name, rank, and serial, as it was back when the regulations of the Geneva Conventions were still in affect, were still deemed the universal questions any soldier could answer when captured. She wouldn't know about that coincidence, but then again, I suppose she still thought of me as a regular, 20th century soldier.

"MLCR-740-59L-4A56-B558."

Technically speaking, the word 'serial number' wasn't even close to being right for describing _that_ long train of numbers and letters. The first few letters corresponded with my unit, and the others were created based off of an overly complex number scheme that related to everything else about me. I wasn't exactly sure, but apparently, details regarding my height, age, weight, and date of birth upon enlisting were taken in, put through some algorithm, and the numbers were created. It ensured a unique identification code for each soldier.

It explained why it was so long and complex. It also explained why there was a moment of silence amongst the residents who were interrogating me. Haruka probably wasn't expecting a 22nd century Commonwealth military serial number.

"Okay, moving on…"

"What are you doing at Hinata-Sou?" Naru demanded.

"I don't know, something messed up, and I ended up here."

_SMACK!_

…Christ, this girl can hit. I shook off the hit as best I could, and kept my head pointed forward. At best, I could keep my head up and at least show them I'm not joking around. It helps to do so in any interrogation, also to keep your morale and dignity up. From what I know, interrogators would always go for that in order to break their captive. Would the residents of Hinata Inn try that?

"You…don't…know?" Naru specifically made her question slow, sounding off each word carefully. In particular, she didn't sound surprised. She then began to pace around me. In my mind, I created an image of her in a trench coat and a military-style cap, especially reminiscent of World War II Nazi officer. Strangely, Naru would apparently look quite fashionable in that attire, in a cute, yet frightening way.

_SMACK!_

Naru had hit me yet again, this time on the other side of my face. I found myself violently knocked over in the other direction. Every muscle I tried to move in my face stung and burned, as though somebody was pressing hot irons to my face. I was lucky she had taken her frustrations on this side of my face other than the other, in which she had hit three times already.

"We know you're lying!" Naru shouted right next to my ear, now obviously agitated. "What are you doing at Hinata-Sou?"

Again, she was asking that same question.

"I told you, I don't know," I replied. Strangely, part of my voice sounded as though it was pleading. Well, whatever works, I suppose. "I don't know what happened, I just woke up and I was here."

There was an eerie moment of silence. Based off the sudden stoppage of sound, even Naru had stopped walked. How were they going to accept that type of answer? Better yet, how would I tell them the truth? How were they going to take the answer that I was a soldier from the 22nd century? Would they even believe it, or would they simply beat me even more for supposedly lying? I braced myself yet again – I had the strange suspicion I was going to meet Naru's hand once again.

Strangely, it never came.

"Let's start with something you _do_ know," Naru then said, changing the topic. She resumed her pacing, slowly walking in front of me and back to where she had started. "Why were you in the women's changing room?"

Figures – she was bound to have asked that question sooner or later.

"It was an accident, I swear-"

_SMACK!_

"Why were you in the women's changing room?"

I shook off the hit. The side of my face felt stiff and swollen. I didn't worry – my nanites were already onto it. They would help in the recovery process for any type of wounds or injury. While the painkillers were being injected at full speed, I could still feel the pain. For a moment, all I did was groan in pain. I think the resident took that as my response. There was then a sudden swing of a sword, and the tip of a katana then materialized in front of me.

"Speak now, vile scum! What were you doing _watching_ a trio of innocent maidens?"

From the looks of it, Motoko had joined in. Fun…

"I was hiding, and the only place I could hide at was the closet."

I was speaking the truth – honestly, for once, I suppose. I could see Motoko's face in little detail, but whatever I could pick out screamed of anger and annoyance. She then swiftly pulled her sword back. Was she pulling back? Was she satisfied enough with my answer?

"_ZANGAKEN!_"

Suddenly, those familiar, swirling forces picked up and contacted against me just as they did before on the many occasions Motoko swung her sword. I was thrown back along with the chair, the only thing stopping me being the back of the room itself. The force of the impact was violent and absolutely brutal. The back of my head hit the wall, leaving me with a rather disorienting feel. I could feel the chair, myself included, be lifted back into place by a pair of unknown assistants. As soon as I was back in place, I had less than a quarter of a second to realize there was a fist heading straight for my face. Naru's near patented punch – there wasn't much to describe about it. It was strong, and it hurt like hell.

"Liar!" Naru screamed, moving my head back in place and winding up for another strike. The fact that she was holding onto the top of my suit was all that prevented the chair and me from flying back into the wall as her fist made contact with my face yet again.

"You were watching us, weren't you, you pervert? Why else would you be _hiding_ in a closet, in a women's changing room?"

Grabbing onto my head yet again and moving it into place, she threw yet another punch. As with all the other hits, my head was thrown back violently. Even before I could recover, Naru struck the side of my face with the back of her hand, throwing my head around in the other direction. At this point into the interrogation, I had taken a great deal of punishment. When I recovered, I leaned to the side and spit out the blood forming in my mouth.

"You're cleaning that up, y'know" Kitsune commented.

"I had emerged from below the hot springs," I then began to explain. "I entered the building via the changing rooms and I was going to enter the rest of the building. I hid in the only possible hiding spot possible when I found you, Kitsune, and Motoko closing in. I did not intend to watch any of you during that time."

Would they buy that? Well, seeing how Naru and Motoko are out to crucify me as soon as possible for even thinking about heading into the changing room, they surely would not. In the back of my mind, I tried to think of a way to end this. I needed to tell the real truth – I am a soldier, over a century out of place. I tried to think of the proper words to explain it, or something that at least didn't sound stupid. My thoughts were interrupted as Motoko's sword came into view. The very tip of the side of the blade reached the bottom of my chin and raised my head up. I was thankful she wasn't going to decapitate me – not yet, at least.

"Is that the truth?" Motoko's voice, shrouded in the darkness, asked.

As she did, Naru leaned in closer, allowing me to see her face. If I had to guess, she was trying to examine what I would do when I reply to Motoko's somewhat rhetorical question. Naru actually looked almost the same as every other interrogator – clean and pristine, with an expression caught somewhere between angry and uninterested. This was quite the typical appearance, especially for a female interrogator. Particularly with Naru, she didn't look as dangerous, but I had no doubt that she would rip my head off with her bare hands and beat me to death with it the first chance she got. Still, I had to admit, in spite of how much she has beaten me, I held nothing against her. She was here to get answers, and if I were in a similar position, I would do the same.

Hell, my methods of interrogation would have been even more extreme.

"I swear by all the religions of the earth and by all written and unwritten civilian and military laws, I speak nothing but the truth."

An awkward minute or so passed, before Motoko then retracted she sword and Naru pulled away from my face. Well, I was somewhat relieved I wasn't going to be hit. I say only 'somewhat' because they still would, in a matter of minutes if I did something wrong. I then felt Naru's hands grab hold around my neck and pulled me out, with her moving in closer.

"If you're lying, we _will_ punish you" she threatened in a menacing tone of voice. She then pushed me back into the chair and walked back into the darkness.

"What is your unit?" Haruka then asked.

"I can't answer that."

Wait, what did I just say? _Shit_, it was my preconditioned response to that question, as part of our training. While name, rank, and serial was fine, asking for the unit was not. I had barely enough time to even realize it was a mistake when I heard Motoko shout her 'Zangaken' yet again and swing her sword. Same as before, I hit the wall, my head lopped around, ready to break off from my neck, and then somebody bothered to pull the chair and my attached self back into place. Stupid answer…

"I don't think 'I can't answer that' is a good answer!" Naru was shouting right next to me, with one hand holding my head in place. She then raised her hand.

_SMACK!_

Why didn't I see that one coming? Naru backed off again, leaving me to cough up more blood.

"Sergeant Randall," Haruka then began. "As you can see, Ms. Narusegawa and Ms. Aoyama are not pleased by any inconclusive answers. I understand you are under military regulations to resist interrogation and to withhold information, but this will go on for as long as possible until you explain everything necessary. I will ask again - what is your unit?"

"Ma'am, with all due respect, I can't answer that" I replied. "I can explain-"

I could see Naru's figure raise a hand. She looked as though she was going to strike at me, seeing how she always did so when I gave an answer less than constructive. Naru stopped part of the way through, possibly being ordered so by Haruka.

"And why is that?" Haruka inquired.

What could I answer with? Sticking by pure military regulations was necessary, but doing so was going to get me killed in a small room far from my own world. Then again, my refusal to answer bought me some time to think of an answer, in particular, one to explain who I really was.

"My unit does not technically exist."

There then seemed to be a brief moment of confusion amongst the interrogators. I was anticipating Naru to hit be again, but strangely, it never came. I could see, but whatever general outlines and shapes I could see moving in the background told me they were all in disagreement about what I was talking about.

"Does not exist, literally, or figuratively?" Haruka asked.

Come to think about it, to say that my unit technically does not exist was the wrong answer to use. It could be implied that either I'm a psychopathic or mentally unstable person lurking around the area claiming to be part of a nonexistent military unit, or worse, that I'm part of a Black Ops team, the type that _officially_ doesn't exist. The latter would be a terrible one – able to account for my advanced equipment and weapons.

"My unit does not exist _now_," I explained. "But will in a little less than a century and a half. I'm not from this era, I'm from the future."

Another moment of silence then washed over the occupants of the room. This one was much longer than the previous ones. In this moment of silence, I had then realized how stupid my last bit was. Should I speak now and give them further details? It was awfully tempting, but staying quiet was as well.

The bright spotlight then shut off, and the dim lamp above me turned on. At that instant, I could see the entire room and all its occupants. Turns out, everybody was there – Kitsune sat in a chair to my front right, Naru stood opposite to her, almost right where I was, and Motoko had her sword readied in front of me. Su and Sarah sat in the corner with a rather horrified Shinobu watching on. If I had to guess, the severity of Naru's beatings and the affects they had on me were too much for her to take. Keitaro stood nearby in the other corner, watching on.

Haruka then gently nudged Motoko aside and walked up towards me. She was dressed in an apron with the words 'Hinata Teahouse' printed on the front, and she was without her near trademark cigarette hanging in the corner of her mouth.

"Explain what you've just said" she told me, plain and simple.

"I'm a soldier from the year 2145," I explained. "I woke up, and found myself here, and all that has happened so far as resulted in general chaos."

"2145?" Kitsune asked. The fox's curiosity was suddenly peaked. "You mean, 2145, as in the future?"

"If you consider one hundred and forty-six years to be far enough into the future, than yes," I replied, somewhat able to insert humour into the situation. It was actually quite funny – I was sitting, tied up in a chair, bloodied and beaten, and I was here cracking a joke.

"You expect us to believe that?" Naru was certainly not pleased. Actually most of the residents were not. My ultimate answer sounded stupider than anything they've possibly heard.

"Easy, Naru, we've gotten as much out of him for now," Haruka said, holding up a hand and stopping Naru from hitting me yet again. "Everybody, take a break, we'll continue this later."

Everybody then piled out of the room. I was left in solitude as the door in front of me closed shut and locked. Relief, at least, I suppose. My face burned and itched. Every time I opened my mouth, I could feel the sides of my face protest. Motoko's sword technique, if it was one, did surprisingly little damage to me other than toss me around, but Naru's hand was simply devastating. I pushed all thoughts of my wounds aside. This actually wasn't too bad. During the two months spent in a Bloc POW camp, I suffered far worse. Along the front and back of my chest, I had numerous burn marks, where a Bloc interrogator pressed welding irons onto me. I had remains of lashes still left from when an interrogator brought out a whip and started to hit me to try and get information. I was even missing a section of skin and flesh in my thigh – part of a chilling interrogation technique I had to endure. It was where the interrogator would slowly slice into your thigh with a sharpened trowel, cutting slices and sections of flesh off every hour or so, claiming he will keep doing so until he slices the femoral artery and leave me bleeding to death in an isolated sewage hole, unless I answer his questions.

Particularly, the interrogators made it abundantly clear that they did not care for our lives, and that whatever information we knew, they would eventually get, the difference being, whether we would have to die a slow and painful death during that process. That revelation and the thought of the torture on its own were terrifying for anybody, particularly those experiencing war for the first time. The interrogator had missed my femoral artery by two millimetres before he had to move onto the next soldier.

What made that entire process even worse was how the interrogators did so for enjoyment. They actually didn't care for what information the prisoner would give them – even if the soldier talked, they'd continue with the torture just to watch the soldier squirm as he would bleed to death, especially after they slice through the artery.

Comparing what I have experienced now to what I experienced back then, this was alright. It was still quite brutal and painful, but nothing that would match that same POW camp. At least, not until Motoko starts dismembering me limb by limb.

Thoughts of the previous interrogation aside, I started to look towards the door. What were they talking about out there? Did they believe my somewhat unbelievable claims? Were they amazed that I was something from the far future? Or, were they simply discussing how much bullshit my story seemed to be?

"_He's lying! That doesn't even make sense!"_

I couldn't hear what they were saying, but anything up to a certain volume was discernable. As of now, I figure at least Naru wasn't buying it. I wouldn't blame her, since claiming to be from the future was a highly illogical claim. Beyond the door, I could hear more shouting and yelling. They were all in disagreement on what to do with me. It was difficult to tell, but it sounded as though they were discussing _other_ methods of interrogation. Either they were simply sadistic, or they needed a way to prove I was from the future.

The voices then went silent for a moment, and continued so for a few minutes. After those few minutes, I heard footsteps. The door then opened, and Kitsune walked in first. Instantly, I noticed what she was wearing. If I had to guess, it was a police officer's outfit, however, that would have only applied to the hat and the shirt she wore. The other part of her outfit comprised of a short miniskirt that ended only halfway up her thigh, proving a rather gratuitous view of her long legs. Other than that, she was complete with all the rest – a nightstick, pepper spray, and an authentic looking picture identification card pinned to her shirt. Most would find themselves unable to turn their attention from the revealing costume, but I found myself worrying about whether the pepper spray or the nightstick was going to be involved.

After her walked Naru and Motoko, both dressed in the same outfit. While Kitsune looked as foxy as ever, Naru and Motoko looked less than pleased. The idea of them being dressed in such a provocative manner probably didn't seem as appealing in their minds.

"Soooo…Sergeant Randall, am I right?" Kitsune asked as she sat down, crossing her legs. There was a definite emphasis on the motion of her legs. Her short skirt seemed to be part of that motion in particular.

Motoko rushed forward and grabbed hold of the front of my chest and pulled me forward. In angry eyes and face hovered slightly more than an inch from my face. She held her sword in the other and looked ready to strike.

"You will tell us the _real_ truth you foul, deceitful coward and debauchee!"

"'I'm from the future?' What sort of BS is that? You came here to watch us you pervert! The penalty for peeping is _death_!" Naru, who was suddenly next to Motoko, screamed into my face. She held her fist high and looked ready to commence beating me into a bloody pulp.

"Hold up a minute…'scuse me…"

Kitsune then pushed the two angry women aside and came face to face with me. While Motoko and Naru were tense and agitated, Kitsune had an unusual calm aura to her that I just couldn't identify where it was coming from. Was it her eyes, which were partially opened now, revealing a seductive, yet beautiful pair of light brown eyes? Was it with her smooth and silky voice, in a tone neither critical nor mad?

Or was it the apparent fact that part of her shirt was unbuttoned and that she wasn't wearing a bra?

"Listen, Randall, you've seen what these two can do, and I'm sure it isn't _fun_ for you," Kitsune said, almost purring, as she ran a hand up and down my chest, which didn't actually do anything, due to the ropes and my armour. "We can all play it nice and I can keep them off of you if you talk a bit. And besides, if you talk, maybe the two of us can have a bit of _fun_ ourselves…"

Huh…that was something…under normal circumstances that would have been the greatest thing anybody could ever hear. My mind sped along in a great blur, trying to find some type of answer. Should I answer in the typical, uncaring, by-the-books military manner? Should I make some witty or suave one-liner? Well, should I make a one-liner, assuming I knew any? My mind settled for something in between, much to my disappointment.

"This is the Good Cop/Bad Cop routine, right?"

Kitsune then stopped, as did Naru and Motoko. Kitsune, who was previously all over me, discussing her definition of 'fun' suddenly looked at me with a shocked glance that differed almost completely. Somehow, I had the feeling I just killed the mood. Damn it, it just happens to be the one thing that I _excel_ at.

"Wow, he's _really_ bright." It was all Kitsune could say as she looked towards Naru and Motoko almost timidly.

"He knows?" Naru asked, severely disappointed.

"The Good Cop/Bad Cop routine is an interrogation technique often employed by members of law enforcement," I began to explain in a dry and almost educational voice. "It often involves two police officers, in this case three, one who plays the 'bad' role, meant to degrade the captive, and the other playing the 'good' role, where they pretend to act supportive for the captive to encourage them to talk."

The three women stood there, staring at me as though I had said the most shocking and most controversial statement ever.

"This technique actually doesn't work," I continued, pulling up the random bits of information that I knew. "It only works on those who are either very young, or those who have never heard of the technique. During the first half of the 21st century, the technique made its way into popular culture and the media, and as a result of it now being well known, it is no longer used for interrogation."

Again, there was another moment of silence. Were they shocked, or did they have nothing to say?

"Your amount of intelligence is almost astonishing" Motoko finally said, her statement differing in the way that it wasn't meant to completely insult me.

"How did you know?" Kitsune asked, suddenly sitting down to listen carefully for my answer.

"Well, for starters, all three of you walked in with police uniforms," I said, stating the obvious. "And my training also consisted of being taught all the current and past forms of interrogation, to either recognise or properly utilise when needed. Since the Good Cop/Bad Cop routine is well known, we are required to know it, as with several other methods."

"So, what actually works, in your opinion?" Kitsune asked.

"I usually don't do interrogations, but it would depend on the person," I explained. "You do a few things to them first to see how resilient they are, and then you apply the proper techniques. Generally speaking, I've seen drug and chemical induced interrogations work best and when combined with psychological effects such as white noise or discomfort, they usually start talking. Interrogations haven't been necessary in my time as much due to the abundance of computerised and digital information to access and analyse for intelligence."

Well, this was going quite strange. A few moments ago, Naru and Motoko were ready to put my head through the wall and Kitsune had some rather intriguing ideas in mind, but now, I was talking to the three of them about how to properly interrogate a prisoner. I was teaching my interrogators how to interrogate _me_.

Is there even a larger example of irony?

"Alright, that's enough!" Naru angrily thrust herself between Kitsune and me, ending our little conversation. "This isn't working; let's get out of here."

With that, the three left, leaving me, again, in solitude. Outside, there was more talking. If I had to guess, it was probably those three talking about how Kitsune's idea did not work. I tried to move in a bit closer, as much as I could despite being tied down in my chair. If I focused, I could hear a bit more of their conversation.

"_Haruka-san, do you have some drugs? Y'know, the stuff you'd need for getting a guy to talk?"_

"_I think I might. I'll check my medicine cabinet later."_

"_I hope that would work. This plan was humiliating, Kitsune-san."_

"_Hey, look on the bright side, Motoko-chan – you look really good in that police outfit."_

"_What was that? Urashima, you dog!"_

"_Wait, no, I didn't mean that! No, wait, stop!"_

_"_ZANGAKEN!_"_

Suddenly, Keitaro flew, and broke, straight through the door and landed face first right next to me. Through the now opened doorway, I could see Motoko with her sword drawn. Everybody else stood behind her, mixed between amused and worried for their manager. I looked down at his crumpled form, as he slowly got back to his feet.

"How nice of you to join me."

"Don't make me give you some payback for always attacking me!" Keitaro threatened. He did have a point – of all the residents, Keitaro was the sole individual that I've shot or attacked in some other way.

I looked up at him, and then laughed.

"I'd like to see you try, _shrimp_."

"Don't call me shrimp!"

Keitaro then balled his fist up and threw a punch. I quickly moved my head in the same direction of his fist. His knuckles contacted against the top of my head. Compared to Naru's fist, Keitaro's was the equivalent of being playfully punched at by a toddler. It didn't hurt me all at. After his punch, I came out practically wanting more. I couldn't say the same for Keitaro.

"Arrgh…that hurts…my hand…" Keitaro did his best to nurse his injured hand.

My head: 1, Keitaro's fist: -1. Was that not _the_ perfect score?

"You idiot! You call that a punch?"

Naru then walked up to me and threw one of her trademarked punched at my face. The force of the impact threw my head around again. After I recovered, I turned to the side and spit out even more blood.

"You see, now _that_ was a punch" I managed to push out after shaking off the hit.

The group of eight then came through the opening where there was once a door and gathered around me. Haruka was the first up. She took a whiff of her cigarette before she started talking.

"As interesting as you claim of being from the 22nd century is…we're going to need something a bit more concrete and _believable_ than that."

"You must believe me," I said. "Come on, my weapons, my armour, my insignia – you've never seen any of them before, so how would you explain all of that?"

"Prototype equipment? That's always one possibility."

That was quite a logical statement. For all she knew, I could be a regular soldier part of a special team given new and prototype equipment to use. I tried to think of another argument – I could list out the companies who built my assault rifle, show them were their names were printed, and ask if they've ever heard of it, I could explain a bit about the powders inside my caseless ammunition and how several chemical compounds in it have yet to be synthesised, I could even tell them about my helmet and how different it was from anything they know about. It felt like my ultimate solution, but I didn't feel as easy revealing future specific information to them.

"I've got it!"

Su then practically flew into the room as though unaffected by gravity, holding a small device that looked much like an old-fashioned virtual reality headset. It was red in colour with a highly ornate symbol of an eye printed over it, and with wires running down from the side. With the flick of her foot, a small television set then flew into the room after Su as well. Quite comically, it happened to land on Keitaro, bringing him down to the floor in a crumbled heap just as before.

"Wait, is that…" Naru looked and pointed towards the small device.

"Yep, it's the Virtual-kun! We'll hook it up to him and see what's really on his mind"

"Wait a minute, just hold on," I protested. "Listen, Su, I'll give you back your hard drive, if you don't hook me up to…whatever that thing is. Just hear me out, we can negotiate."

Kitsune then put her hand on my shoulder, looking down at me with a smirk.

"Too late, buddy, we already found Su's hard drive. You've got nothin' now."

Keitaro was helped by Shinobu, and they both set the television set up, while Su hooked cables up to it. It was some type of display, that was for sure, but what was it supposed to do.

"Don't worry, we'll know real soon if you're lying" Haruka said, reassuringly, I suppose.

"I tell you, I'm not lying. I AM from the future!" I protested yet again, only to find it falling upon deaf ears.

As soon as it was finished, the TV was switched on, providing only static. Su then triumphantly raised the Virtual-kun over her head.

"Virtual-kun, go!"

She then threw the small device towards me. I moved as much as I could, but the device landed and latched over top of my eyes. It wasn't turning on just yet, but I swear, I had the feeling this wasn't going to be any good.

"Shinobu-chan, do you still have your frying pan here?" Naru asked.

"Hm? Oh, it's over here. Why?"

"Can I borrow it for a second?"

Wait…this _definitely_ could not be good. I had no time to think about it any longer, just as I felt the hard metal of a frying pan strike the back of my head. I then drifted back into unconsciousness.

…My head…

Everything was a blur. As I opened my eyes, everything I could see was dark and featureless. Everything was quiet for all but a few seconds, of which when I could hear it all – the sound of a magazine being released from its weapon.

I blinked, and I found myself riding inside an APC. The already cramped interior of the vehicle was made more so by the other fully armoured Commonwealth soldiers sitting inside. There were eight of us in there, and one of them picked up his fallen magazine from his lap and slowly loaded it into his IW52. With the press of the magazine release, the magazine fell out again, and onto his lap.

"Anything wrong with your weapon, Baker?" our squad leader, Sergeant First Class W. Hargrove, asked.

"No, Sergeant."

"Then quit screwing around with it."

Someplace in the back of my mind, this all seemed familiar. I had seen and felt all this before, I swear. It was there, but it wasn't. I looked around, my HUD showing the IFF tags for the others part of 2nd Squad.

"I can't believe Corporal Randall's back so soon" Private First Class J. Delacroix commented, his chipper voice partially accented in his native French.

"You got that right Del," PFC B. Haverson, seated in the corner of the APC, added. "What was it, two months in a POW camp, three days in a field hospital, half a week back home, and he's back out here with us losers? I tell ya, the guy's a freaking machine."

"Randall IS a machine, Haverson," PFC G. Ostergard, a lean and athletic soldier from Sweden sitting next to me, answered. "Most of us would have spent another week and a half in the field hospital, maybe longer after that. We sure as hell wouldn't be back out _here_ any time soon."

"I'll bet Randall's back out to waste some Bravo," PFC R. Galloway, a heavyset soldier hailing from Scotland, said, patting my shoulder. "Those sons-of-bitches are about to learn what 'payback' is."

I remember all this. This was 2nd Squad, back when I was still a Corporal. All these men…most would perish in a matter of weeks. I would inherit command of the squad a few ranks later. Not that it really mattered. This was the original 2nd Squad, with the original soldiers that made it was it was. It was like a dynasty that we all knew and respected. When it would come to its end, I would have to start another, with me as the head and with a new group of individual underneath me.

"How're the folks, Randall?" Ostergard then asked me. I knew him since basic training, and he was the closest thing I had to a real friend.

"Better yet, how's your _sister_?" he then added, emphasising the last part.

"Worried," I replied, not saying much. "And no, Lynette is not interested."

The others in the APC then broke out laughing with Galloway reaching out and gently punching Ostergard's shoulder. Ever since I had accidentally let slip that I had a sister younger than me by three years, the entire squad made it its personal duty to try, rather unsuccessfully, to get to know her better. Ostergard and Galloway were the two idiots who did that the most. Ostergard apparently had plenty of luck with women in the past, and Galloway…well, his self-proclaimed nickname, 'The Sexy Scotsman', and his numerous bragging stories pretty much summed him up.

"Alright, cut the chatter and listen up," Hargrove said, his normally harsh bark reduced to a more calm and authoritative voice. "4 ID can't hold much longer. Bravo has been reinforcing with troops, armour, and they've probably got mortars and other arty pieces sighting in. Since we've gotten here faster, we'll hold out until we get armoured support. As soon as we hit the trenches, I want all guys on me! We're going to set up fifty metres left of the bunker. Make sure you're in position – all the other squads know where they're going, so y'all do the same."

Several affirmatives were grunted inside the APC.

The APC lumbered along, suddenly shook up as an explosion detonated right next to its hull. I could remember the adrenaline pumping through me as that happened, as the others yelled out and swore. It was a mortar, and it got quite close to hitting us. Close, but not close enough.

"How far are we?" Hargrove shouted at the driver.

"We're here!" the driver answered several seconds later. "Pile out, go, go, go!"

Everybody poured out of the APC. Just as we did, I looked up into the sky. There was very little blue sky above our heads. It was another cloudy day, whether by actual cloud or by the smoke from our weapons, I didn't want to know. Hargrove's IFF was brought up on my HUD, and I followed as close as possible. Thunder rumbled in the distance in a series of distinct beats. It was no ordinary thunder – they were the reports from Bloc artillery barrels.

"Incoming…!"

I had barely gotten into the trench and inside a hardened foxhole when the shells rained down on us. The foxholes were dug into the trench walls and had concrete and metal reinforcements. They extended far enough underground such that a soldier hiding in one wouldn't get hit by fragmentations, and were large enough for one to easily get in and out. Each impact shook the earth, throwing great plumes of smoke and dirt into the air. Along the trench, I could hear shouting and screaming – the foxholes were plenty and were able to protect a soldier from any amount of bombardment, but they depended solely on how fast the soldier could get their ass inside one.

All of 2nd Squad got into cover as the shells rained down upon us. My teeth shook and I struggle to stay upright as the forces of the artillery impacts tried to throw me about. My ears were deafened as the explosions rocked the trenches and small clouds of dust and dirt swirled about, violently changing shape and course as each shell found their mark.

The violent rain continued for a minute or two, and then stopped. There was no fancy end to an artillery bombardment, nor was there some way to anticipate one. The only warning a soldier would get was when the thunder suddenly stopped.

"They're coming! Go, go, go!"

Everybody emerged from their foxholes and took up positions along the trench. Sergeant Hargrove directed orders to the squad on where to spread ourselves out at. Sections of the trench that weren't reinforced were torn apart with wide impact craters and covered with soft mud. I struggled to move through the weakened ground, only to find something solid to step upon.

I looked down, and realized it was the remains of a soldier's chest. He was missing everything below the waist as well as both his arms. I looked back up and kept moving. That soldier was dead already. Following my waypoint marker, I set up at my location and sent an acknowledgement. Five metres to my right was Delacroix, and another five to my left was Galloway. All of us did the exact same routine – we checked out magazines, made sure our safeties were off and our HUD sights were switched on. We then supported our rifles on whatever solid material we could, and waited.

It wasn't a long wait. Within moments, our enhanced equipment either picked up Bloc soldiers charging straight for us, or we spotted them ourselves. The soldiers of the Eurasian Bloc were dressed in warm parkas with a rough camouflage pattern dyed on. Some wore obsolete helmets, while others went into battle wearing berets or ushankas. Their most notable features were the large rucksacks they had strapped to their backs, which must have weighed a nearly improbable amount for a soldier to carry. Most of them carried the usual Bloc self-loading rifles, the SLR3, while others ran in firing their A43 SMG's. The A43 was a design almost taken piece by piece from the legendary and iconic AK47. It was a crudely constructed weapon, but was exceptionally light in both weight and recoil. It was also a severely underpowered weapon, unable to do any harm.

As soon as I heard the gunshots, I squeezed off my first three-round burst, watching as it caught one of the lead soldiers in the chest. The way he dropped to the ground, face twisted in pain and with his weapon flying out of his hands, was nothing new or shocking to me. I made sure he went down, and then went for the next. Bullets snapped by my position, but none would hit me. I took aim again, this time at a Bloc soldier who stood still to try and aim. First rule about charging into battle: _never_ stop to shoot, unless you've got a squad to give you suppressive fire. Due to him presenting himself as an easy target, I fired off my burst, the 6.8mm depleted uranium rounds tearing through his head, red gore erupting into the air.

I switched firing modes, from three-round burst to my utility launcher. I knew I had grenades loaded in its magazine. The sights in my HUD changed to grenade launcher sights. My HUD marked out the location of a group of Bloc soldiers charging in. They were grouped tightly together. The other rule about charging into battle: _never_ group up. Anything more than five men packed closely together was a great opportunity for anybody with grenades. My rangefinders picked out their distance, and set up a marker for me to aim for. Raising my rifle, I lined up with the marker and fired.

The 20mm grenade left my barrel and landed in-between the group. When it detonated, dismembered and burnt bodies flew into the air, complemented by blood and gore. I switched back to three-round burst and resumed fire, picking off whoever came first.

"I'm out, loading!" Galloway shouted.

I made sure to keep up my fire as much as I could. A soldier reloading was an easy target for anybody to hit. By the time Galloway finished, my magazine ran dry. I quickly swapped magazines and resumed fire. The soldiers kept coming. It was just like the First World War – differences being automatic rifles and enhanced combat armour.

"Get your heads down!" a soldier from down the line shouted. "We've got mortars, incoming!"

The waves of Bloc troops then trickled to a stop. We had barely any time to get behind cover when we heard the distant _pop_'s of mortars firing. A second later, segments of the trench detonated, throwing rocks and dirt into the air as the explosive shells rained down on us.

Suddenly, something landed in between Galloway and I. It had to have been a mortar shell. It must have been closer to me, though, since the force of the impact forced me to the ground quickly and violently, while Galloway fell much slower than I did. My muscles ached and protested as I tried to move. My HUD brought up a new display, showing the extent of my wounds. I ignored all of that – I saw Galloway fall as well. Was he alright? His vitals were stable, his EKG was a bit faster than usual, but he was alright. As the smoke cleared, I saw him stand back up.

"Randall? You're alright, lad?"

I tried to get back up, but I seemed to lack the energy to do so. Behind me, Delacroix rushed to my aid, checking for any serious wounds that were treatable on the field.

"Randall's down! Randall's down!"

"I'm fine, Del, I'm okay" I said, getting to my feet, also trying to look for my rifle, which was thrown off in some random direction when the shell landed.

I crumbled to the ground. My legs now screamed in agony. Looking down, I saw a bit of blood forming in that area. The shrapnel and fragmentations had gotten my legs. The display in my HUD showed it was generally nothing – the bone wasn't hit, at least. But it was enough to keep me down. Delacroix reached into one of his pouches and produced a small nanite injector. He removed its cap and stuck the nozzle end of it into one of the seals on my armour and activated it. I could a small prick on my skin as the nozzle extended and punched through my skin, then generating a cold, sick feeling as a small colony of over energized nanites were injected into my body. These nanites, when activated, would last only a half hour or so before they would decay, but they operated at an accelerated rate to repair cellular damage. They would move to my legs and begin working there in conjunction with my current colony of nanites to stop the bleeding and repair the damage.

"_Bayonet charge!_" a voice crackling over our audio cues then warned. "Stand your ground, Bravo's doing a bayonet charge!"

The bayonet charge – it was one of the oldest and most suicidal frontal attack strategies ever conceived by human minds. The Bloc, especially the soldiers with SLR3's, had grown adept at timing their charges with artillery bombardments. The SLR3's had long barrels, and when fitted with a reinforced titanium bayonet, it pretty much became a spear. While Commonwealth soldiers had better armour and weapons, we were at somewhat of a disadvantage at close quarters. Our IW52's were restricted to burst and single shot, and even if we had shotgun shells in our utility launchers, we would have only four shells to actually use. Our training readied and made us specialized for precise medium to long range combat. At a good vantage point, we could hold back Bloc infantry waves nearly indefinitely. But seeing how this trench and the area around here were mostly flat, we faced the possibility of close quarters combat if we couldn't pick them off quickly enough.

"Let's get you to safety, Randall," Delacroix said, dragging me along. "We'll hold this area and let you recover. Don't worry - I'll kill a few of them for you."

I couldn't actually argue with him. The shrapnel in my legs was bad enough that I couldn't stand on my own two feet. That made me a liability in trying to hold the trench. Within a few minutes, I could probably recover, but staying in the trench for those few minutes made me an easy target for a bayonet wielding Bloc soldier. The best bet was for me to either wait for the nanites to fix my legs while I stayed back either inside a foxhole or back at the bunker.

"Hurry up, Del!" Galloway shouted, firing at the incoming waves of Bloc infantry. "Get Randall to safety! I'll cover yer asses!"

Delacroix dragged me along the trench for a short distance before being forced to return fire. Galloway kept his fire up, taking down several Bloc soldiers to cover our move. Suddenly, I saw a spray of blood from his helmet. It had taken me much long than I had anticipated before I could realize there was a gunshot that went with it. Galloway stopped firing, and his body fell to the ground. The bulky computerized HUD that covered Galloway's eyes and once maintained the robotic image of him and the Commonwealth soldiers was smashed and broken with a single gaping bullet hole in the centre. And with that, Private First Class Robert Galloway, a heavyset native of Scotland, was dead.

"Galloway!" Delacroix shouted, watching helplessly as his comrade slumped to the ground.

There was nothing either of us could do now. Some would wallow in the self-pity that holding our position wouldn't have presented Galloway with such impossible odds to defend and fail against, but it wasn't my decision to be dragged away to safety because of my legs. Then again, it wasn't the sort of thought to be thinking. Galloway was a friend and fellow soldier. A few minutes ago, he was talking about me getting payback for the torture I endured from the Bloc, a few hours ago he had bribed the quartermaster into giving us extra grenades, and a few days ago, he was bragging about the various women he had scored on in his 'prime.' Now, in a matter of seconds, he was dead – gone. He was nothing but a corpse with a bullet hole in his upper cranium. We would never be able to talk to him ever again. I would never be able to tell him to 'lay off my sister', and then hear a witty and suave comeback from him. I would never be able to hear about his famous stories involving dozens of women and girlfriends.

Galloway was dead. That same message kept ringing through my head, again and again.

"Get down, Randall!" Delacroix screamed as he continued to fire at wave of Bloc infantry.

Bodies dropped to the ground and some flopped over the top and into the trench. Delacroix fired burst after burst, and then switched to his utility launcher, taking down an additional number of soldiers. Then, a lone Bloc soldier jumped into the trench, landing between my position and Delacroix's. He swung the stock of his rifle and had caught Delacroix at the side of the head, knocking him to the ground. The soldier then pointed and thrust the bayonet-fixed end of his weapon at Delacroix.

I could only watch on in horror as the bayonet impaled Delacroix through the throat. He struggled for a moment, his hands uselessly trying to push the rifle off of him as blood leaked out from where the bayonet entered. All of Delacroix's screams and curses were reduced to bloody gurgles as he clawed at the bayonet hilt. Delacroix then stopped moving, his hands slowly dropping to his side and his body suddenly ceasing all activity. Private First Class Jon Delacroix, a proud and determined native of France, was dead.

Delacroix was another friend and fellow soldier, as much so as Galloway. He was overwhelmingly proud of his heritage as a Frenchman, and would never allow anyone to insult him. He also never gave up. In the thick of pressure and under fire from all directions, he gave it his all and only stopped when everybody else not with him was either dead or dying in front of him. Delacroix was strict and always straight-to-business – the necessary personalities that I always figured would make him a fine officer in the near future. All of that no longer mattered now. Delacroix was dead, and he had now joined Galloway in the next plane of existence.

Could I have saved him? I had my sidearm – I could have done something. I could have warned Delacroix, I could have shot the Bravo before he got Delacroix, I could have saved Delacroix…

The Bloc soldier then proceeded to unceremoniously yank his bayonet out of Delacroix's throat. He set a foot on Delacroix's chest and kicked it forward as he pulled, the long blade sliding out of the dead soldier's throat. Delacroix was dead, and I did nothing to save him.

I then rose to my feet. I ignored every screaming muscle and wound in my legs as I staggered forward. I took another step to propel myself closer, and I was right at him. The soldier turned around and saw me, but I was already there. My momentum knocked him to the ground and I pinned him in place. I pushed away his rifle and began to throw punches and beat at his face. He blocked most of them, but those that got through struck him hard in the face. It wasn't enough. I wanted to _kill_ him. I wanted to make the bastard pay for killing Delacroix.

My hands then reached for a jagged rock, slightly larger than my fist. It must have been formed from the mortar shells landing just before. I grabbed hold of it and raised it over my head. In that instant, I saw the expression in the soldier's face. His eyes were widened in fear and his mouth was open and pleading for mercy. He was looking at a faceless robot, with a sharp rock raised over him.

That's right, be scared, you son-of-a-bitch. You killed Delacroix, so now I'll kill _you_.

I struck him in the face with the sharpest end of the rock. I didn't stop there – I brought it up again and back down on his face. Each hit sprayed blood over top of my mask, and each hit resulted in pained screams from the soldier. It…was…not…_enough!_ I quickened my pace, continuing to beat at him with the rock. I was screaming with each hit that registered, mixing swears and near-primal cries with my onslaught. The soldier's hands then weakened and gradually fell to his side and he slowly stopped screaming. I continued to beat him across the face with the rock. I had dropped the rock after the last hit, and I finally got a good look at this face, or rather, all that remained of it.

It was completely caved in. Everything that would have made him recognizable was gone – bludgeoned and ripped apart. Only a single torn and bloodied eye remained, as did a wide, gaping mouth that was screaming for me to stop moments ago. I picked up the discarded rock and struck the soldier's face one last time, just to make sure. He was dead, but hey, let's assume he isn't.

"_STOP!_"

I heard somebody scream. It was not anybody I recognized on the field. It was the cry from a small girl. I recognized the voice.

It was Shinobu.

Suddenly, everything snapped back into reality. I was staring into a blank device that covered my eyes. I shook my head, and it slid down and off my face. I wasn't inside a trench, wounded and having just killed another man right in front of me – I was at Hinata Inn, in another time era, inside a room where I was being interrogated for answers.

The entire room held its breath in a horrified silence. The television set displayed the last image I could remember – the Bloc soldier's already caved in face with the rock smashed into it. Everybody watched on in fear, as though unable to switch off the television set. Even Haruka, normally cool and calm under all situations, watched on in shock as the image on the television set registered with her. The person most affected by it was Shinobu. She huddled in her chair, sobbing and quaking. From what I could see, her entire face was drenched in tears. She had never seen somebody die, at least, not like that. Naru and Keitaro sat beside her and tried to console her.

That device, Su's 'Virtual-kun', could display memories or dreams. That battle was a recurring dream that could be considered to haunt me from time to time. It was the first time I had ever done that – killed somebody that close and with that much primal rage. It wasn't pretty, but being in the military, stuff like that was always bound to happen. That instance just had to happen then, and had to be shown now.

"Where was that?" Haruka then asked me.

"About fifty kilometres northeast of Perm, in the Ural Mountains" I answered.

"There aren't any trenches in the Ural Mountains" Haruka answered, in a state of disbelief.

"There aren't any today," Kitsune added, her usually curious and intrigued personality now dampened. "A hundred and forty-six years later…"

The realization then set in. They now knew who and what I was. Their interrogation had succeeded, and they got the information they sought, but was it worth it for them? Did they need to see _that_? Part of it told me it was necessary, but seeing the looks on their faces, I knew otherwise. Often, I felt civilians were too ignorant about the soldiers and the war. In this case, that same ignorance would have been bliss.

"I'm sorry, everybody."

As soon as I spoke up, everybody looked at me with raised eyebrows and confusion. No wonder – they had tied me up, they interrogated me, and the only answers I gave turned out to be the truth, and yet _I_ was apologizing? Evidently, the forces of irony must have been having a field day or something.

"I know I needed to prove my point, but showing that bit was probably too much," I explained. "If it makes anybody feel any better, that was the only sort of kill I have ever made. I've never had to do _that_ ever again."

"How many people have you even killed?" Naru then asked, in response to the last bit.

It was the usual and most dreaded question a soldier could be asked – the kill count. Civilians either horrified by war or knew nothing about it often asked returning soldiers. Those horrified by it wanted to know how terrifying war really was, and those who knew nothing probably believed the propaganda and played the whole thing off as more of a video game, the number of kills I made being indifferent from a score.

"I don't know."

What came out of my mouth was complete and absolute _bullshit_. I knew _exactly_ how many kills I have made. My HUD keeps a constantly updated number of them, which I could almost easily access. As of entering Hinata Inn back in my time era and having killed the fighter who dropped the homemade concussion grenade, my kill count stood at 497.

…

I stopped for a moment and thought about it – for the first time in months. I have taken four hundred and ninety-seven lives, all during the course of three years. I have taken four hundred and ninety-seven fathers, brothers, sons, and husbands, from their respective families. I have ended four hundred and ninety-seven lives, just so I could prolong mines slightly longer. Disheartened parents would be forced to bury their own children, spouses would face the grim fact that their loved one will never return to their arms, and the children will be forced to acknowledge that they will never again feel the love and care from their lost parent.

Worse, they will learn of how they were _murdered_ by an enemy soldier like me, and seek vengeance. When they enlist and journey into the battlefields, they would only find death, thus sparking yet another vicious chain of vengeance.

Four hundred and ninety-seven - the number felt quite large, because it was. Our equipment and training gave us a significant advantage in battle and because of that, and because of how the Bloc were quite outdated, a single Commonwealth soldier, having fought from the very start of the war until the present day, could easily have made a minimum of three hundred kills. It depended ultimately on how often we were out in the battlefield. My regiment was always out there, and the amount of hell my fellow soldiers and I faced warranted for that amount.

I could not tell them the number. Seeing how they already saw me bludgeon a man to death with a rock, and for them to now acknowledge that I really was a soldier from the future, to tell them that I have killed close to five hundred people would not help anybody here. Then again, it wasn't like I had to tell them – their saddened and grim faces told me they at least suspected I had killed a large number of people.

"We're done for tonight," Haruka then announced. "Sergeant Randall will stay in this room for the remainder of the night and we'll continue this in the morning."

With that, she motioned for everybody to leave the room. Haruka seemed desperate to end this encounter. I wouldn't blame her – this entire situation had taken a lot from both sides and it was time to end it. As everybody slowly left the room, none of them looked back at me. I had dampened their mood, evident by the reactions of all the residents. Su, previously a hyperactive and almost completely insane, weakly stepped out of the room just like everybody else. Kitsune, still dressed in that same police outfit and seemingly on the verge of offering intercourse if I decided to speak the truth, left without a sound or a second glance. The same went for Keitaro and Naru. Shinobu remained soaked in tears, sniffling and rubbing her eyes as she continued to be consoled by Naru.

The only person whose behaviour changed for the worse was Motoko. She gave me a particularly cold glare as she left the room. No doubt, after seeing my memory, she was now fully convinced I was a threat to the residents of Hinata Inn.

The broken door was brought back into its place and secured from the other side. I was locked inside, isolated from the rest of the inn. The first day of my interrogation had ended, and I was not unscathed. I couldn't see my own face, but no doubt, I had to have looked like shit. My nanites would recover the most of the damage in a few hours, which would be reduced to a few minutes if I could reach one of my nanite injectors, assuming those weren't policed by my interrogators.

Would they come back in a few minutes and continue? No, I had doubts they'd come back. The solemn manner they left the room suggested they did not want to see me for awhile. Was it all specifically related to what they saw from my memory? It had to be. The Virtual-kun portrayed the battle as exactly the way I had saw it then. There weren't any special effects or computer animation – it was real and authentic war in all its shape and form. They had just seen death for the first time, and like all the others who have seen their first taste of it, they found themselves frightened and scared. To see somebody die in a movie or a game is one thing – in real life, it's a completely different story.

I wanted to talk to them a bit more, maybe explain a bit to calm them down. I wanted to prove to them that I wasn't some deranged or psychotic murderer. That would have to wait until the morning. In the meantime, I suppose all I could do was rest a bit, even get some sleep. I closed my eyes and relaxed. My head fell forward with my chin touching the top of my chest plate. The ropes that secured me to the chair actually kept me in place. Within a few minutes, I was asleep.

My dream continued, as though resuming from being paused. I was pulled off of the Bloc soldier and pulled to safety. After recovering, I went back into the trenches with Haverson and Ostergard, where we were able to procure a machine gun, circle around and set up a position flanking the Bloc advance inside an impact crater. Our long chains of suppressive fire were able to relieve pressure on the forward lines and allow our forces to rally and make an advance of their own. We were able to secure a greater foothold just as the Walkers and armoured support rolled in to fortify the area.

Losses were quite minimal and we secured the trenches and the position. Ultimately, it had its share of shortcomings. Haverson took a round and didn't make it. Private First Class Barrett Haverson, an American soldier hailing from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, had died in the impact crater from a single rifle round through the neck. At the end of the day, our squad paid homage to our three fallen soldiers – Galloway, Delacroix, and Haverson.

I was mostly indifferent about war, but this was the part that made me hate it – losing friends. You'd start second-guessing yourself and wondering if you could have saved them. Eventually, you'd settle with accepting that there wasn't anything you could have done, and that they died so the rest of the squad and the mission could succeed. But then you'd ask yourself, was it worth the cost? Was the cost of three friends worth the reward of holding a fifty kilometre square section of mud, dirt, and broken trench lines?

The life of a friend and fellow soldier was worth more than any piece of ground or objective. That's how I would have answered three years ago. Today, I can't give an answer. What was the most that I can say now? After the battle that cost the squad Galloway, Delacroix, and Haverson, it was made clear to me. War is hell, and with hell comes death. You'd simply have to bite the bullet and accept it, especially if you're the one leading them straight into it, which I would be later in the future. Not every soldier will return home – it was an undeniable fact – but what matters more is the strength that they will all give to keep fighting so that the others around them will make it home alive. Everybody had to keep going with no regrets. I had to do it just as much.

All of that corresponded even with this situation. I don't regret surrendering myself. I don't hate Naru or Motoko for beating me for information. I don't regret any of the decisions that have led me to here, sitting in a chair and facing them. It's like all the other decisions I have made – I've made what I felt was the best choice, and the fact that I'm still conscious, still breathing, and still alive means I at least did one thing right. Even if it was wrong, the fact that I'm alive means I can still fix it.

'_Regret nothing' -_ the ones with no regrets are the ones with nothing to worry about.


	5. Operational Supremacy

**Motion on a fourth dimensional plane**

Note: New chapter, finally!

Again, I was delayed by a multitude of things - family related, more writers block...all the nice stuff, doubled with how I'll have to go back to school soon. But, through perseverance and toil, I did it. I got this chapter written. It was hard, actually, because part of me kept side tracking. You see, this is what happened – I was up late one night playing _Tetris_ on my Pocket PC. Yes, _Tetris_. I was sitting there playing _Tetris_, trying to beat my high score, and while I'm playing, this idea for a fic enters my head. As I kept playing, this idea develops itself further, and my idea apparently came out to be a Naru-centric fic about her struggling to move on in her life after a series of events occur that separates her from the other residents. It probably would have involved a canon-sue or overwhelmingly depressed Naru, an OC, a Naru/OC pairing, and probably would have ripped off several other fics in the process, but I got the framework for the beginning down and needless to say, it would have been pretty damn sappy. Hell, I suddenly entered an emotional state thinking about it.

That idea turned out to have sidetracked me for several days. I couldn't get it, or the feeling I wanted to establish for it, out of my head. I wanted to write it, but I don't have enough of the plot and characters fleshed out to make something. And as I mentioned before, I probably would have ripped off a few other fics in the process as well, making me extremely reluctant to write it, let alone post it. But the idea floated around for a bit and every often I flesh out some more plot details. If I ever write it, it would be one for Naru fans like me – featuring an emotionally shattered and depressed Naru trying to figure out her place and make a life of her own after everybody she cares for leaves. It would either be a sad and depressing story of her struggling to survive on what little she has in friends and money, or take elements of that and gradually build up to that of an 'epic' storyline with her finding her place in the grand scheme of things.

All heavily work in progress, but it was an idea at least. If you've read this, at least comment on whether it would be a good idea or not.

Before I start with this chapter, I would like to first touch base on where Motion is taking place in the Love Hina story. I'm going off of the manga timeline, placing this at 1999, just before the plot with the Beach Café. The story will eventually go there, and I'm hoping it will turn out fine. Take note, however, I may not be abiding strictly by the Love Hina canon. I may mix in elements from both the manga and the anime series, and I might not stick to the timeline specifically, but I will try to keep it together as much as possible. As for pairings, I already know what I will be doing, so don't request or press any. Personally, I like Keitaro/Naru, but I have ideas on how to develop the story to benefit most sides. It won't go complete, all-out Keitaro/Naru, but it's still there, as with some others.

And thus concludes my longer than usual pre-chapter ramble. Readers, start reading.

* * *

Chapter 5: Operational Supremacy 

Of all things soldiers need, sleep is, quite surprisingly, one of them.

For a moment, the advent of nanites and implants seemed to suggest that perhaps the hypothetical super-soldiers of the Commonwealth could potentially operate without sleep. It was a great idea – our nanites could supply us with a steady concentration of drugs and chemicals that would keep ourselves awake and still remain fully concentrated. This gave rise to the thoughts of enhanced killing machines able to sweep the battlefield at anytime and anyplace ruthlessly and efficiently one-hundred-and-ten percent of the time. As it turns out, that became one of the many initial downfalls of the Commonwealth's nanotechnology implements.

True, soldiers could operate _longer_ than normal, but without sleep? There are some rather interesting affects that would occur as a result of it. This wasn't a mere matter of not sleeping for a day or two, but rather, for more than _ten_ days. In the past, eleven days was a fairly good world record, but the soldiers were doing around that amount as a near minimum because of the nanites. And with that…incidents began to occur. By supplying drugs and chemicals, the process related to drowsiness was eliminated and the soldiers could operate without fault but the affects of sleep deprivation would still develop. As a result, most of us saw some rather interesting things from the squaddies who were selected for the tests. They would, practically in mid stride, forget what they were doing; report that a pink and purple panda was frolicking around the base; start trying to provoke fights with other personnel because they think somebody stole their socks, etc, etc, etc. During the period of roughly three weeks, I saw several good soldiers fall into fits of insanity, some horrible, yet others quite comical.

After the tests, our nanites were modified so they would stop keeping us awake after eight days. They were also modified so when we are in a position ready to fall asleep, they would give us drugs to help us fall asleep faster, for the sake of our health. They also made a setting so that when disrupted by certain sounds or by certain amounts of physical force, the nanites would give us another drug to instantly wake us up. The certain sounds included gunfire and in particular, explosions and detonations.

I found myself suddenly awoken as one shook the area. My first instinct was _artillery, get to cover!_ I tried to get up, only to find myself unable to do so. I then remembered I was tied into a chair. The memories of the interrogation quickly flashed through my head. I was locked inside this room. Was I just imagining it? Was all of that part of the same dream that I just woke up from?

A distinct and sharp explosion sounded off yet again. In the distance, several smaller detonations sounded off and continued so. This was no dream – something was going on. I struggled for a moment, trying to break free of my bonds. These ropes were surprisingly strong. Contrary to popular belief, trying to break free of restraints is much harder than it looks. In reality, the protagonist usually doesn't have a knife cleverly hidden in their sleeve, nor are they able to hastily assemble one from whatever spare materials lying around.

Unfortunately, this was the hole I was in.

As far as my experience goes, the method of breaking out of restraints involved one of two things – either the ropes themselves or the material you're secured to. For me, the ropes were quite secure, overdone, in my opinion, but as for the chair…

I then began to shift my weight back and forth. I needed to see how strong the chair was pieced together. There turned out to be very little movement, but compared to the thick ropes that bound me to the chair, it was better than working with nothing. I continued my motion, rocking the chair back and forth with enough force it was almost at risk of toppling over. As I continued, I could feel a distinct loss of strength by the chair from its legs and back. I was getting closer and closer. As soon as I finished rocking forward, I shifted my weight upwards, lifting myself and the chair up. For the brief microsecond I was in the air, I rotated back, and the angled rear legs of the chair smashed against the ground. Shortly after hearing the sounds of splintering wood, I realized I was much closer to the ground than before.

It worked. By rocking back and forth and then hopping up into the air, I was able to break the rear legs of the chair. In addition, the sudden shift of weight broke the back of the chair as well. I struggled again to slip my hands out from the ropes. I was able to sneak one hand out, and from there, I began working on the other. Within moments, both arms were free. It would only be a minute before I was able to remove the other ropes and free my legs. Once all my limbs were free, I stood up and out of the chair triumphantly.

My first instinct was to move to the door, but I took some time to check over myself. My face was still quite bloody and beaten. Given the amount of damage, I had only dozed off for a few minutes at best, not enough time to allow my nanites to repair all the damage. I checked my pouches. Most of them were empty, possibly cleaned out the same time as when they checked me over for Su's hard drive. The compartments located to the back of my chest armour and the smaller storage spaces hidden on my vest weren't looted, which was a definite advantage. Reaching my hand in, I grabbed one of my nanite injectors and promptly stabbed it into one of my suit seals. I could at least get myself patched up faster.

Finishing that, I searched through some of my compartments for my PDA. Luckily, there was a specific space for it to be fitted into that was well hidden and not obstructive. Pulling it out, I brought up my maps of the inn and the tracking signals for my equipment. They were not located anywhere in the main building. Everything - my rifle, my sidearm, my helmet, and my supply of ammunition were being held at a separate location close to the inn. It was going to be a short walk to get over there and to procure them.

Better yet, seeing how there was an explosion just recently, I felt I needed my equipment for protection and for use. The general rule about explosions – if you hear several of them within a short span of time, they are intentional and meant to do harm. Accidental explosions usually occur only once or twice, often more in a scattered and unsystematic chain. Several could mean, from my experience, a volley of rockets hitting their mark.

I was quite curious, however – who the hell was running around shooting _rockets_? As far as I'm concerned, there isn't a war going on, but it sounds like there is one going on outside. Should I be asking why I'm hearing explosions, even?

"Hey, anybody there?" I shouted, knocking at the door. No answer.

"Anybody? What's going on out there? Somebody, talk to me!"

Again, I received no answer, except for another set of explosions. I stepped back and examined the door. I remember Keitaro was thrown through it by Motoko's sword technique, and it definitely was not in good shape. Ergo, it would not hold out against any sort of direct force. I backed up a bit more, and charged shoulder first into the door. Through a cloud of splinters and the sounds of snapping and breaking wood, I smashed my way through the door.

That was easy enough.

I was now inside an even smaller room just outside of my 'cell', with another door in front of me. This room had a small table and a chair present, and judging from the now opened door, I would guess that there was somebody sitting here just moments ago. Were they here to watch me, to make sure I would not escape? Come to think about it, if I was a minute or two earlier, I probably would have ran into them. Part of me had the strange suspicion that this person volunteering to watch me was Motoko. Fair enough – her sword would keep me grounded any day.

But she wasn't here now and the exit was wide open. I checked my corners, and then exited. This area was located further into the inn, part of a small area I had no visited yet, but some extrapolation would lead me to guess that I was close to the main entrance to the inn. Once I find the foyer, I could exit the main building and get to where my equipment was being held at.

More explosions rocked in the distance, some strong enough to send vibrations through the building. What the hell was going on? It actually sounds like a war zone out there. I suppose the least I could receive from all this was some peace and quiet – a few hours, a few days even, from the usual gunfire, artillery, and soldiers dying. For now, it sounded, quite ironically, like home.

Whether I was disappointed or relieved, I dare not ask myself. Still, this place does remind me a lot of battle. All it needs is a bit of humanity – screaming and shouting from either soldiers or frightened civilians. Otherwise, it might as well have been nothing more than an overenthusiastic fireworks display gone horribly, horribly, wrong.

I then heard a single, piercing scream.

That was enough of the humanity I needed. I homed in on the source. It was close, somewhere nearby. The sound of the voice sounded familiar – was it Shinobu? What would she be so frightened about? Well, there were explosions going on outside, of course. I continued along the hallways until I reached the area close to the foyer. I then saw her run by in front of me. I tried to call out for her to stop, but found out why she was running in the first place.

Immediately following her was a small, flying, metal turtle.

Was that Su's Mecha-Tama? It had to be. I had to do something. That tiny thing packed a fair bit of firepower, and I'd hate to see it used on somebody like Shinobu. I ran out and pursued the flying mechanical device. It wasn't too fast, so I was able to catch up to it quite quickly. Once in range, I reached my hands out and grabbed hold of it. I struggled to keep it from moving, but my hands kept a death grip on its metal shell. I then threw it to the ground, far from my position, watching as it spun along the floor and further down the hall. If I had a weapon, I would have shot it – of course, but then again I was currently without that luxury. I turned around and faced Shinobu. She stood there, her face evidently plastered in fear, huddling in the corner.

"Are you alright?" I asked her, getting down onto my knees to talk to her better.

She said nothing, only looking back up at me with shock. No doubt, the footage of my close quarter mishap was still on her mind. Was she scared of me? Would she be willing to cooperate? I only hoped so.

"Hey, are you alright?" I asked her again. Again, she did not respond.

"Listen, I'm not going to hurt you," I reassured. Somehow, this was feeling quite familiar. I checked behind me, just to make sure Motoko wasn't sneaking up on me. "I need to know where the possible safe areas are. If you can tell me where they are, I can get you and the others there to safety."

Shinobu continued to look up at me. Her frightened and tearful features said everything. Would she trust me? I would hope so. The more she looked back at me, the calmer she got. It was a good sign.

"The teahouse."

Shinobu's voice was barely a whisper. I wasn't surprised. She was still quite frightened after all that has happened so far. Luckily, her voice was not too small for me to hear. I was making at least some type of progress.

"Where is it?" I asked.

"Out the doors and down the stairs" Shinobu said, pointing towards the main entrance.

I pulled out my PDA and checked my maps to make sure. I had moved around the outside of the inn a few days ago and I could remember there was a long flight of stairs outside the main entrance that extended below. If I had to guess, this teahouse was somewhere down there. It also corresponded to the location of my equipment. I needed to get to the teahouse, whether to get the residents to a safe location or to get my equipment.

"Alright, listen to me, Shinobu," I told her. "I'm going to get you to safety. I'm going to bring you down to the teahouse. When we get there, stay out of sight and wait for when help arrives. Understood?"

Shinobu meekly nodded. She understood, and was willing to trust me. It was all that I needed. I got up on my feet and extended a hand. If I was going to help her, the least I could do to begin with was help her up. Shinobu reached for my hand – but promptly backed off and started to scream. _Shit_, what was going on now? I quickly turned around and checked behind me. All of a sudden, something flew straight at my face. I had my hands out to catch it, but the force this small object struck me with was quite substantial. I lost my footing, and fell back.

It was the Mecha-Tama. The small, robotic turtle was back. I struggled to keep it off my face, but it fought back. It was too close to use its weapons, so I'd assume it was going to try and dispatch me with some sort of close quarters weapons, possibly its wide, gaping mouth. For something this small, it was quite strong. With as much force as I could muster even while trying to hold it back, I gave it a punch or two. It was not enough to force it off. I needed something to even the balance. My eyes quickly scanned the area. I noticed I actually was at the main foyer. Being there meant the kitchen was close by. A kitchen only meant one thing…

"Shinobu, get me a knife! Get me something sharp and pointy!" I barked, keeping the robotic turtle away form my face.

She was quite reluctant to help, but immediately got up and ran for the kitchen. While I struggled, I could hear drawers being opened and pots being cast aside. She then came back out carrying what I needed – a kitchen knife. It wasn't exactly a combat knife, but it was what I needed. I motioned for her to give it to me. Shinobu quickly ran towards me, dropped it off, and backed away. I reached one of my hands out and grabbed hold of its handle. I then thrust it straight at the robotic turtle's neck.

It was a robot, and it probably would take more than a simple stab of a knife to bring it down, but if I was lucky, I could at least immobilise it. The knife entered from the bottom right of its neck and into the body. I moved the knife around as much as possible, trying to perhaps do some damage to the inside of the robot. I swiftly withdrew the knife and thrust it in again, at a different angle and entry point than before. If I'm able to, I could at least disconnect the head from the body.

I continued my process of stabbing and withdrawing, until the head was all but disconnected. A thin piece of plating and what appeared to be a bundle of wires and machinery inside the neck was all that held the head in place. With a final push of the kitchen knife, the head slid off. It continued to move, but to no avail. I pushed the body off me and got up to my feet. The knife was in terrible condition – of course, seeing how it was probably not meant to be used for decapitating a robotic turtle. It was still quite a potent weapon, however, regardless of the damage. Behind me, Shinobu watched on in a horrified state.

"Are you okay?" I asked Shinobu again, as though not noticing the still moving robotic turtle flopping around on the ground.

"…um…yes, I'm okay…I think…"

Shinobu was quiet, but she was at least willing to talk to me. A quick glance into her eyes suggested she was still quite uneasy around me. Suddenly, there was a thick explosion just off in the distance. It wasn't that far off, from what I could hear of it. It was like distant thunder, only shorter, but with a single, acute _snap_. During that I could have sworn I heard a small yelp. Looking down, I realized Shinobu was grabbing hold of me. I was fulfilling a role not unlike that of a squeeze toy. She then realised what she was holding onto and quickly got off of me.

"I'm sorry!"

"What's going on out there?" I asked, changing the subject. It was something I should have done the moment I found Shinobu – a bit of a rookie mistake on my part, but I could look past it. Another explosion then rocked the area. I looked around and noted the flashes of light outside. Seriously, what was going on?

"Su's Mecha-Tamas are going insane! They're attacking everything they see!"

Well, I now had the sitrep. If they were attacking, I would definitely need my weapons…wait a minute, Mecha-Tama_s_? Mecha-Tamas, as in _plural_ form? Plural form, as in _more than one_? So the one that I just had to disable was but one of many?

"Hold on, what do you mean by Mecha-_Tamas_?" I inquired.

Shinobu's mouth opened, but no response came. She was staring at something behind me, something that must have been shocking enough to render her speechless. I turned around, and realized there was, not one, but _three_ Mecha-Tamas hovering there, watching me as though I was a piece of meat. The guns on their backs then pivoted and locked onto us.

_Oh…SHIT._

"Get down!" I screamed, moving myself in front of Shinobu, just as the guns fired.

I turned my back to them and covered Shinobu as much as what my armour can afford. Whatever they fired, my armour held against it, but the force of the impact was quite significant. My knees buckled and I fell to the ground. I kept resolute, however, and stood my ground. This wasn't good enough. I need to get Shinobu out of here, and hell, I needed to get out as well. I readied the kitchen knife, quickly flipping it around and grabbing hold of the flat, topside of the blade.

I had a knife and was going against three targets at a distance. Usually, this was suicide, but given the circumstances anything related to suicide needed rather drastic measures – which, more chances than naught ended up being suicide anyways. I wouldn't be able to rush all three and expect to walk away victorious, so a direct frontal assault was not going to work. My priority was to get Shinobu to safety and that was more important than attacking. But of course, I had only a knife. To get in close to use it on one of them would get me involved with the other two – a rather messy result, if I do say so myself. What would others do in my situation? Well, I don't know about them, but I had to throw my knife and perhaps take out one of the targets.

Throwing a knife was much, _much_ harder than what popular culture and media presents it to be. It wasn't a case of flicking any old knife in one direction and scoring a perfect hit, but rather, required careful training and correct gauging of distance and necessary strength. The trick, as far as I was concerned, to throwing a knife was in the way the knife is held. The technique I was trained in was to hold the knife with the handle pointing upwards with your hand grasping the hopefully flat backside of the knife. It was a Russian technique, which was quite ironic, seeing how the Russians were on the opposite side. Regardless, it was a good way to throw a knife.

I got to my feet and faced the three turtles. I brought the knife up in one hand and as I stepped forward with my left foot, I rotated and swung, applying my chest muscles into throwing the knife. Knife throwing was a near delicate art. While taught, it wasn't emphasized as much as rifle marksmanship was, and because of that, not many soldiers could proudly say they can throw knives.

The knife left my hand and did a quarter spin in the air as it flew along. It landed straight inside the mouth of the turtle to the far left. The force of the impact sent it reeling, leaving me with only the other two. I wasn't a master practitioner of knife throwing, but I wasn't terrible at it either. I could throw a pretty nasty one, actually.

"Go! Get moving!" I shouted at Shinobu as I charged forward.

The other pair of turtles fired on me. Their shots were mainly landing centre mass, but I kept my face and head covered as best I could while running. Three-on-one wasn't nice to get into, but two-on-one was doable. Especially, since the targets were small and that many generations of evolutionary perfection gave me a pair of hands to work with. I grabbed both of the turtles and threw them aside, far from my position. Looking behind me, Shinobu was already running out of the foyer. I quickly followed and exited the building.

It was still dark outside. The amount of time I spent both unconscious and asleep before and after the interrogation was definitely not that long. The moon was glowing pale white above and was lighting some of the area, at least enabling me to see where the steps here. Periodically, explosions and detonations sounded off and briefly lit the area even more. Was all of this being caused by the now apparently numerous Mecha-Tamas? Logic told me otherwise, but seeing how almost none of the occurrences here made any sort of sense, I wasn't sure of my answer at all.

I stayed close to Shinobu and kept watch over her as we ran. The explosions usually made her stop and look around for safety, but otherwise the pace was quite steady. Within minutes we had reached a small building located at the bottom of the long path of stairs. Just like the main building of the inn, this one shared the same colour scheme and old fashioned construction. As we got closer, I pulled out my PDA and checked for the location of my equipment. They had to be inside.

"No! It's locked!" Shinobu cried in dismay. She tried to open the door but a lock from the other side negated her efforts, reducing her to a saddened pout. There appeared to be two entrances, one much larger, and another smaller door. The smaller door would probably be the easier to get through, with the exception of the lock on the other side.

"Allow me."

Shinobu looked up at me as I aligned myself with the door. She looked at the distance between it and myself and tried to protest, but ultimately moved away and behind cover. I started to run, gradually lining up my right shoulder with the door. I turned my face the other way just as I came within a metre of the door and allowed my momentum to carry me through. I slammed into the door and straight through like a comet, leaving the broken pieces of the door and its frame behind me.

"Did you just break down the door?" Shinobu looked from the now open doorframe to me and back as she meekly walked in.

"Yes, I did," I answered. "Why?"

"But…you BROKE down the door! You broke the door!"

"Well, what did you expect me to do, knock? Ring a doorbell? Knock?" I asked her, somewhat rhetorically.

Shinobu looked at me with a great expression of shock and disbelief. It was as though she had never seen somebody break through a door with their shoulder. Actually, she probably didn't, so that was explainable. I had to admit, the look on her face was simply priceless – a surprised and _'oh my goodness, I can't believe what just happened'_ look. It suited her quite well, if I might add, adding to a childish and frightened aura she projected.

"Come on, we've got to move" I said, leading her further into the building.

The inside of the building was rather spacious with plenty of tables and seats set up. If I had to guess, it could easily accommodate for many customers. I just had to wonder, did they serve more than tea here? Was there also food? I've never actually been in a teahouse before, particularly a Japanese one. I was quite curious, actually.

All thoughts regarding food and tea were rudely interrupted when I realized there was the muzzle of a firearm next to my head.

"Hands where I can see them, _soldier_."

I raised my hands and quietly swore. I should have at least known Haruka would be here.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but I will require my weapons and equipment."

I couldn't see Haruka, but I could tell she was amused. She was holding me at gunpoint, and I was asking for my weapons? What kind of shit did I have to fall into to be forced to do _that_?

"Aunt Haruka, we need help!" Shinobu spoke up. She then proceeded to summarize all that has happened to Haruka in a frenzied and hurried pace.

"Thank you, Shinobu" Haruka replied after Shinobu finished explaining.

"I'm willing to help," I said. "If you can give me my weapons and equipment, I can re-enter the inn, locate the other residents, and bring them here to safety while you hold the teahouse."

"What makes you think I can trust you?" Haruka asked. Amidst the echoing explosions outside, I could hear a lighter switch on, followed by the smell of a freshly lit cigarette.

"What would you not trust about me?"

"Well, let's see…you broke into the inn and hid there, evaded many attempts to apprehend you, attacked my nephew several times, and you just broke down my door."

Haruka's voice was the same emotionless drawl. Even with what was going on outside, she remained calm as she kept up with this miniature interrogation. Again, I had the suspicion she had at least some degree of paramilitary training. All of that aside, Haruka did have some rather good points as to why she shouldn't trust me.

"Other than those, there isn't anything else. I can help, do you understand me? I can help."

"Aunt Haruka! There's something outside the teahouse!" Shinobu warned, pointing towards the wall.

Upon listening in more closely, I could hear scraping sounds outside. Were the Mecha-Tamas here already? Were they set on breaking in and wreaking addition havoc? The sounds then stopped, leaving the interior of the teahouse in an anxious period of silence. Suddenly, a small section of the wall burst open, sending large pieces of wood flying towards Haruka and me.

"Get back!" I shouted.

The pieces of wood struck me first. Whatever sent them flying must have done so with a large amount of force. The force of the first impact sent me sprawling, and the other pieces threw me to the ground. I felt something collapse under my weight as well. A quick glance told me it was Haruka, who stood behind me with a gun pointed at my head. I was about to get off, right when I spotted one of the Mecha-Tamas flying through the hole in the wall. Everything slid into place – my military and combat instincts replaced my civilian morality and logic. Haruka's hands still held onto her weapon. I didn't have to think about what I needed to do. My hand shot out and plucked Haruka's pistol from her hands.

Guns were guns. Regardless of what time era they were from and so long as they had a trigger and a set of sights, they were always usable. I lined up the front and rear sights, then fired off a pair. The two bullets found their mark, the first striking the robotic turtle in the head and the second one just next to it. I continued to shoot, firing off a third and fourth shot. The Mecha-Tama was thrown back out the hole where it presumably fell to the ground, no longer a threat. Just then, another Mecha-Tama, followed by yet another flew into the room. I quickly engaged them, firing a pair of rounds for each target and dropping them to the floor in a matter of seconds. From the sidelines, Shinobu cautiously uncovered her ears, while Haruka crawled out from underneath me. I handed her weapon back to her, grip first.

"You'll need my help" I said to her bluntly.

Haruka said nothing as she picked up her weapon and got up on her feet. She glanced towards the fallen Mecha-Tamas that lay motionless on the ground, seemingly admiring my handiwork.

"Nice work. You're a good shot."

"I'm a soldier, I do this sort of stuff for a living," I replied. "If I had my weapons and my equipment I can do it better."

Haruka then rubbed the side of her head, as though suddenly receiving a headache.

"Alright, I get your point – you want your equipment. Wait here."

She then walked off, out of the room and out of sight. Moments later, she returned with a crate and set it down on one of the tables. Sure enough, everything was inside – my IW52, my sidearm, ammunition, helmet, combat knife, etc. Everything that I was missing during the interrogation was being held in a small wooden box.

"What's your plan?" Haruka asked me.

"I'm going back into the inn to find the other residents," I explained as I picked up my assault rifle, checking it over for any damage. "Once I round them up, we will move back to this location and wait until help arrives."

"Sounds good, but there won't be anybody coming here to help us, though."

No help? What the _hell_? There are explosions going out outside, and several of them as well, all of which would be easily seen from practically anywhere. Wouldn't somebody get suspicious? Hell, shouldn't somebody have called the police by now?

"Can't you get any assistance here?"

"Sorry, but no. The police have actually stopped answering calls regarding Hinata Sou and they won't even come near this place." Haruka answered, somewhat amused. "Particularly when _that_'s going on outside."

I knew Haruka could keep her cool in any sort of situation, but how could she be _amused_ in one like this? There were an unknown number of self-levitating, fully armed and armoured robotic turtles flying around wreaking havoc, with no chance of calling in any sort of assistance, and Haruka was _calm_? Haruka being calm aside, there was no form of help on its way.

Which should I be more worried about?

"Look on the bright side," Haruka continued, still in an almost completely disbelieving state of calm. "You wanted your weapons so badly, so I figure you'd be badass enough to take those things on without any help."

Was that a _challenge_? The way she said it – it sounded as though she was challenging me to take these things on single handed. The concept of a challenge was often ridiculous. It was more like an overextended version of a cock fight, for the sake of ones pride. I often never answered to any sort of challenge. Quite frankly, there wasn't any purpose to one anyways and there wasn't anything for me to prove. But this one spiked my attention. I felt an obligation to meet it.

I unscrewed the silencer from my rifle and removed the stun rounds. Of course, the stun rounds would not work against the Mecha-Tamas, and it wasn't like stealth was going to help me either. After fitting all my ammunition into their appropriate pouches and areas, I slapped in a fresh magazine. I had a few concerns, namely, would forty-five 6.8mm depleted uranium rounds be overkill? The Mecha-Tamas were armoured, but not to the level that demanded such power. I suppose on some level, sticking to my sidearm would be better. Regardless, I took the time to unload the ring airfoil rounds from the utility launcher and load in shotgun shells. I was thinking about grenades, but quite frankly, _that_ would have been overkill.

"I'll be back," I told Haruka and Shinobu as I put my helmet back on and brought my facemask up into place. "Haruka, hold down the teahouse and look after Shinobu. Shinobu, stay with Haruka and stay in the teahouse."

I left without any addition words. I knew at least Haruka would do what she needed to do. I hoped Shinobu would stay put, but seeing how bad it was outside, I figure she didn't have a choice. At this point, it was up to me - not a problem. It wasn't a nice feeling to know that I was the only solution, but given this situation I didn't mind. I brought up my motion tracker and kept an eye on it as I moved towards the inn. So far, I picked up nothing, and I continued to do so right up until I got into the building's foyer. When I entered, a pair of targets showed up on the motion tracker. A quick switch over to my thermal vision brought up a pair of turtle shaped objects with relatively little heat emissions moving towards me.

When the pair of Mecha-Tamas came into view, I raised my rifle and fired a round for each one. The targeting aids in my HUD were precise and accurate, and better yet, my depleted uranium rounds tore through them like tissue paper. They both dropped dead to the ground. I continued to move. Pulling up my maps of the inn, I checked where I had to go. I went up the stairs and up to the second floor. I did my usual stairway procedure, checking behind and around me as I went up. A whole bunch of signatures picked up on my motion tracker, at least a dozen coming in fast. I flicked my fire selector to my utility launcher.

Sure enough, there actually were a dozen Mecha-Tamas flying towards me. When the majority of them came into view, I fired. At this range, a 20mm shotgun shell was absolutely deadly, not only for the target in question but also the others around it. If I had to guess, four or five of them were violently thrown back and clattered lifelessly on the floor. I pumped the launcher's slide, ejecting the spent cartridge and loading in another. I fired again – same result, only more of them were dead. My thumb flicked at the fire selector, switching back to single shot, and finished off the others still moving in a quick burst of fire.

My thermal vision then picked up something else. This contact was definitely not one of the Mecha-Tamas. The size, shape, and the amount of body heat was an instant giveaway – this contact was one of the residents. I moved in, careful to keep my rifle pointed down. When I rounded the corner, the small cowering form of Sarah came into view.

"_No_! Don't eat me!" she screamed in fear, covering herself.

Wait…_what_? Sarah thought I was going to eat her? Usually when securing a civilian previously in harms way, they tend to be bit overactive and this may cause them to shout some rather nonsensical cries. I've heard it all – gibberish, the usual pleas not to hurt them, more screaming, and others like that. But 'don't eat me'? If I were to compile a list of the strangest and weirdest ones I've heard thus far, that would easily make the top ten.

"Don't worry, I'm here to help" I told her reassuringly, dropping down to one knee to better communicate.

Sarah uncovered herself and looked at me. Her once fearful expression then changed to that of a bored and unimpressed glare.

"Oh, it's you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded. "One minute, you're telling me not to eat you, next minute you're 'oh, it's you.' Seriously, what does that mean?"

Sarah got up to her feet. Come to think about it, she was quite small – more so than Shinobu and Su. I was reminded of the interrogation, of when Keitaro tried to hit me, and how I called him a shrimp. Technically speaking, Sarah here fell into the category of a shrimp even more so. Then again, if she were a shrimp, she'd be the most evil and most malevolent one ever to be encountered.

"I don't know," Sarah replied, frustrated. "You look just like one of those turtles and I thought you were going to eat me, so there!"

Fair enough – my helmet did give me the whole robotic look. I also suppose that on some level, a careful glance _could_ make me look like one of the Mecha-Tamas, particularly my helmet.

"Anyways, we've got to move," I said, changing the rather lucrative subject to the present situation at hand. "I'm here to locate and escort the residents back to the teahouse. Follow me, and I'll get you and the others to safety."

Sarah was about to respond, but something else replied for her. It was a single, bloodcurdling scream. My audio sensors gave a rough estimate of where it was coming from and marked it on my HUD. It was coming from Keitaro's room. If I had to guess, that scream belonged to him. I wasted no time getting to his door, with Sarah following. Switching on my thermal vision, I spotted a single, thrashing humanoid figure inside, as well as four cold signatures. I tried the door, but it was locked. I figured Keitaro was barricading himself inside his room for his safety, but I also figured he neglected the window or something.

"Aaahhh! _Help me_!"

"Hold on, I'm coming through!" I barked. "Clear the door! Get away from the door!"

"You're going to save the dork?" Sarah asked me.

"I don't have much of a choice." I reached into one of my pouches and loaded a breaching round into my utility launcher. "Then again, I _do_ happen to get a kick out of this stuff."

Sarah was left to contemplate what I meant by that, but not for long as I lined up my utility launcher with the door's lock. She instinctively covered her ears and turned away, just scant moments before I fired. The lock was blown off from the door violently. I immediately slid the door open and burst into the room, engaging the four Mecha-Tamas already inside. I fired four times, and was rewarded with four disabled robots lying on the ground.

"You're alright, Keitaro?"

Keitaro was only able to respond with incoherent babbling and jabber, also pointing at me, Sarah, the four dead Mecha-Tamas, and back again. He was certainly not taking this too well.

"I'll take that as a 'yes' – calm down Keitaro, I'm here to help!" I said, trying to stabilize him.

Suddenly, a stone urn dropped on his head. Keitaro stopped his nonsensical chattering and fell to the floor. He wasn't unconscious but luckily, he had calmed down a bit. I looked behind me and saw Sarah, who had produced another stone artefact from what seemed like out of nowhere.

"Excuse me…Sarah, we're not supposed to _attack_ the person we just saved."

"Well, it helped. Look, he's alright" Sarah pointed at Keitaro.

Keitaro got back up, definitely calmer than before. He still carried a fair amount of shock but compared to before, this was much better.

"W-what happened? Sarah? Soldier…guy?" Keitaro babbled.

I took some time to briefly summarise what happened – the Mecha-Tamas going crazy, me escaping from my holding cell, finding and helping Shinobu, and what I intended to do now.

"Come on, let's move. Let's get Kitsune and move upstairs for everybody else."

"Wait, what about Narusegawa?" Keitaro asked.

"I can't pick her up on thermal" I explained. When Sarah and I were just outside Keitaro's room and I had my thermal vision switched on, I would have been able to spot Naru, but to no avail. I should have explained more clearly to Keitaro, since the look on his face meant he was assuming the worse.

"Wait, is she…is she…"

"It means she isn't in her room. Let's move out, get Kitsune, head upstairs, and find everybody else," I told Keitaro and Sarah. "Stay close, keep an eye out for any of the Mecha-Tamas, and stay clear of my line-of-fire, got it?"

Keitaro and Sarah nodded. With that, we exited Keitaro's room and went straight for Kitsune. My thermals picked up a single signature inside. Kitsune was still in her room, and there wasn't anybody else inside, which was reassuring. We entered her room, and found her lying in her futon. I wasn't surprised to find a bottle of sake next to her, nor was I too surprised by the fact she was sleeping in a rather revealing nightie.

"Whoa, she _sleeps_ in _that_?" Sarah exclaimed in astonishment. "Heh, I bet you'd like it if you saw Naru in one of those."

Sarah gently nudged Keitaro's side with a smirk on her face. It didn't take a genius to figure out what Sarah was implying.

"H-hey! I wouldn't! I mean, it would be nice – no, not like that! That's not what I meant! Narusegawa's fine the way she is! W-wait, no, what I meant was-!"

"Keitaro, watch the door, will you?" I said, pointing towards the door. I then began shaking Kitsune, trying to get her up. "Kitsune? Wake up, Kitsune! Wake up!"

The only responses that came from Kitsune were small moans and mumbles. She wasn't completely drunk, not like the other night, but she was probably still quite tipsy. Kitsune was at least semi-conscious. With luck, I could probably get her awake.

"Wake up, Kitsune!" I yelled again, shaking her some more. I didn't want to use any force to get her up, but what other way was there to do it?

"Hmmm…you're so _naughty_, Keitaro…"

An awkward moment of silence then fell inside Kitsune's room. Sarah watched on, her expression blank and shocked. I watched on, suddenly finding myself disturbed quite a bit from the…revelation…Kitsune kindly provided us with. What was actually going through her mind? Was she having…fantasies about a certain someone? While I didn't have any sort of love for Su's Virtual-kun for having traumatized the residents with footage of the war I was fighting, I actually wished I had one right now, just to see what was going on inside her head.

"_WHAT?_"

Keitaro was back in the room kneeling right next to me and staring at the sleeping Kitsune. No doubt, he heard what Kitsune mumbled. And no doubt, he was thinking what Sarah and I had initially thought.

"Keitaro, she probably isn't dreaming about _that_."

Keitaro tried to say something, but was interrupted by more of Kitsune's mumbles.

"…no, your _torikame_'s too small…"

Again, there was another moment of silence. It extended for what felt like a significant period of time, before being broken by the sounds of Keitaro falling over. Followed by the sounds of Sarah laughing at Keitaro, possibly from what Kitsune mumbled.

"See? She wasn't talking about _that_ before" I said, resisting the urge to break out laughing. If being in the military meant certain things, it included being highly amused by lewd humour.

"Wait, Keitaro, shouldn't you be watching the door?"

"What?" Keitaro got up from the ground. "Oh, right, I'll get back to it."

Suddenly, my motion tracker picked up movement just outside, at least four or five contact. My thermals picked up very little heat from the incoming wave – Mecha-Tamas.

"Get down!" I shouted.

The first of the Mecha-Tamas got to the door and were already inside. I didn't have time to shoulder my rifle. Instead, I reached for my sidearm. I lined up my sights with the first target and fired. The first shot found its target, but did little damage. Of course, my sidearm was still loaded with hollow-point ammunition. Had the Mecha-Tama been an organic creature the round would have dealt greater damage. I fired again, the second striking the robotic turtle and finally dropping it to the ground. Two rounds to take out one of them sounded reasonable. The others swarmed inside the room, and I continued to fire, methodically hitting each one and taking them down quickly and efficiently. I had around half a magazine after I finished my work.

"Urg…is it morning already?" Kitsune then grumbled as she sat up in her futon.

Of all things that would wake her up, it just had to be gunfire, and even so, she didn't act all too surprised or shocked by it.

"Excuse me, ma'am, we have to go!" I barked, much to Kitsune's annoyance.

"…five more minutes…" Kitsune replied, getting back into her futon and snuggling in her blanket.

"We have to go, _now_, Kitsune" I said, urging her to get out of her futon.

"…fine, _four_ more minutes…"

"Kitsune!"

"…ten more minutes?"

I chose not to say anything. Kitsune eventually got the point and crawled out of her futon. I briefly explained what was going on and with the group now consisting of Kitsune, Keitaro, and Sarah we left the room and made our way to the stairs.

"Um, Kitsune-san, what were you dreaming about just now?" Keitaro asked as we moved along. I wasn't too surprised he was asking about _that_.

"Me? I remember you digging through a box of underwear and lingerie, and then you found Tama-chan, only she was smaller than usual," Kitsune replied, her brow wrinkling as she tried to pull back her memories of her dream. "Hey, what's with the long face?"

"Nothing" Keitaro replied, disappointed.

"Come on, I told you before, she wasn't dreaming about _that_" I said to Keitaro, chuckling afterwards.

Keitaro remained silent as we approached the stairs and made our way up. From what my map was suggesting, after we made our way up the stairs, we would end up really close to Motoko's and Su's rooms. As we got closer, my thermals picked up not two, but three heat signatures. Naru had to be here as well. Their placement was positioned right where Su's jungle-like room was. My audio sensors were also picking up something from within as well, yelling, from the sounds of things.

"I've got three human contacts inside Su's room and…holy _shit_."

"What?" Kitsune asked, walking up next to me. She was right behind me as we moved up the stairs, followed by Sarah and Keitaro.

"I'm counting at least fifty other signatures inside the room. There's at least fifty Mecha-Tamas inside Su's room."

"F-f-fifty?" Sarah cried in dismay.

I took the time to swap out my magazine for a fresh one, doing the same with my sidearm, and loaded more shells for my utility launcher. There were so many of those things inside – I was going to need as ammo as possible. I had forty-five rounds in my clip, plus one already in the barrel, each bullet equating to that many number of kills. I had eighteen rounds in my sidearm's magazine, plus one in the barrel, and with two rounds being able to take out a single target, I had at least nine kills there. Those were able to account for most of the targets inside anyways, but the shotgun shells were for insurance, if needed.

"Listen up, I'll enter first and clear it out," I told the others as we approached the door to Su's room. "Do not enter until I give an all-clear, and…incoming, get down!"

My motion tracker picked up something of a certain size moving quickly towards me. At that speed, it would break through the wall and strike anybody with a sizable velocity and impact. I immediately got down, just as the object smashed through the wall and flew over my head.

"Whoa!" Kitsune yelled, ducking below the object.

"Yikes!" Sarah cried out, getting down on the floor as well.

"Ahh!" Keitaro screamed, followed by the sounds of something hard striking against something soft.

I looked behind me and found Keitaro sprawled on the floor with a disabled Mecha-Tama lying on his stomach. He moved around a bit, meaning he was just fine. I walked up to the hole in the wall and peeked inside. Suddenly, another Mecha-Tama came flying out with such force and velocity that it tore through the wall and collided straight on with the wall, plopping dead to the floor. Inside Su's room, I could see Naru screaming and swearing while being swarmed at by an improbable number of Mecha-Tamas. Every time her fist contacted with one of the robotic turtles, they were violently sent flying through the air, either having met their end by the sheer force Naru could punch at or being destroyed the moment they hit the wall.

Did I even need to go in there? Well, I did, but I suppose the job of taking all of the Mecha-Tamas down wouldn't be as hard as what I initially expected.

Sliding open the door, I burst into the room and proceeded to engage the targets. Due to the sheer number of them, I had my HUD mark them out for easier targeting. I was overwhelmed when I got inside – there were too many of them, where would I even start? The thick throngs of robotic turtles circling and hovering around Su's jungle of a room didn't have any form of start or finish. Being a soldier, I had the near right to kill a member of the opposing force, but even all those rights were too liberating in this situation.

I simply pointed my rifle in one direction and fired. I kept to my single shot fire discipline, picking off specific targets. There wasn't a need to exactly aim – I just lined up my rifle HUD crosshair with whatever target I saw first and fired. Seeing how dozens of them were crowding all around here, it wasn't too hard. My motion tracker picked up movement behind me. I turned around and resumed fire, taking out the swarm of Mecha-Tamas behind me. I continued to reorient myself again and again, firing off shots where I could. During all this, my gaze temporarily met Naru's. She was quite shocked to see me here. Of course, given all that has happened I would assume she still harbours a fair deal of distrust with me.

Come to think about it, was my image being improved to the eyes of the residents? Me, coming in with my weapons and helping to turn the tide, was it a good thing for them? Is their opinion of me changing? This entire incident was turning to be a good public relations stunt, actually. Then again, I wasn't spiteful enough to make use of that. I merely saw something familiar and acted on it – namely, I saw explosions and decided to make a few of my own.

I kept up the fire, picking off more and more Mecha-Tamas. I occasionally switched to my sidearm, but I was mainly using my assault rifle. Round after round, my HUD updated the number of rounds left in my magazine. Starting at forty-six, it dwindled with each shot and finally dropped to zero. I thumbed the magazine release, dropping the magazine out of its well. A pair of Mecha-Tama then rushed at me. I dropped my rifle for a moment and drew my sidearm, lining up and firing a pair of quick shots for each. Picking up my rifle again, I reached for a new magazine, slapped it in place and cycled the bolt.

By now, the number of Mecha-Tama had dropped significantly. The only remains were the lifeless metal carcasses that littered the sides of the room. My HUD picked up a few more retreating deeper into the room, out of reach from the trees and foliage, but their numbers were so few it would not matter in the very end. As far as I was concerned, this area was clear.

"All clear! It's safe to proceed!"

From the door, Sarah, Kitsune, and Keitaro walked in, aghast over the number of fallen Mecha-Tama.

"Remind me not to catch you on a bad day" Sarah commented.

"Are you kidding me? This is me on a _good_ day" I replied. My face mask kept my expression hidden, but underneath I was smiling ear to ear. This was a good day, actually. On my bad days, I screw the killing part and call in air strikes and armoured support. I also had the single instance of a _very_ bad day. Needless to say, it only happened once and it corresponded quite nicely with my Silver Star and a reprimand for excessive damage.

Great times…

"Narusegawa!" Keitaro ran out towards Naru.

"Keitaro?"

The two met and hugged. I take it this whole situation was the closest to danger they've encountered. I had to admit, it was quite charming watching the two hug each other. It was cute in its own way, I suppose.

"Should we leave you two alone?" Kitsune asked, a smirk growing on her face.

As if Kitsune's voice was some sort of signal, Naru snapped out of whatever state of mind she was in and realized Keitaro was hugging her. And with that, she promptly threw one of her trademarked punches that levelled Keitaro and actually buried him in the ground. She then looked towards me, her expression changing to apologetic. Despite the fact that she was probably going to say something to me, a moment of silence developed.

"Thanks for the help" she said, after a long pause. I could tell, this was actually quite hard for her to do.

"Not a problem, ma'am," I replied. "I'm here to help. I've already got Shinobu to the teahouse, and after we get Su and Motoko, we'll head there as well. Where are they?"

"I'm here!"

Su then dropped out of a tree and into view. While she was still in the state of usual hyperactivity, she seemed a bit…dimmed. Su was happy and smiling, but it was just a bit off from what I normally see from her. She then jumped into the air and landed a dropkick on me.

"You're a big meanie, blowing up all my precious Mecha-Tamas!"

Well, let's see – I helped saved the residents from certain destruction and while I receive a 'thank you' from Naru, I get a drop kick from Su? Of course, she was the one who made all these, and I take it she isn't too pleased with me turning them to scrap metal all of a sudden.

"Okay, so Su's accounted for," I said, getting back up to my feet. "Where's Motoko?"

Su and Naru pointed deeper into the room. My thermals picked up body heat from around that area, as well as with signatures matching the last of the Mecha-Tamas in this room, and also some audio cues. The audio cues sounded like…screaming? From Motoko? I moved in closer, pushing branches and leaves out of the way, and the closer I got, the louder the screaming. Come to think about it, couldn't Motoko handle a problem like this easily? She had her sword and she knew several attacks that, in theory, would obliterate all of these things. If that was Motoko, and she had all the training and such to be able to retaliate, then why would she be screaming?

"Turtles! Turtles! Turtles!"

Motoko stood there swinging her sword about fruitlessly, while the remaining Mecha-Tamas circle around her. Her eyes, usually hard and concentrated and able to pierce any amount of armour, were now unfocused and in a state of shock and fear. I nearly fell to the floor in disbelief. Was Motoko scared of turtles? Of all people and of all things, it would be Motoko being scared of turtles. But I had no right to laugh at her for that – hell, I was scared of _dolls_ and that was bad enough on its own.

Shouldering my weapon, I opened fire. The Mecha-Tamas were standing still, as though sitting back and enjoying Motoko's rather humorous reactions. I finished off the remaining few with little difficulty. Checking over the room, I found nothing. This room was clear. I had expended a magazine for my rifle and most of one for my sidearm.

"…turtles, turtles…are they gone?" Motoko looked around, falling out of her state of frenzy.

"They're gone, this room is clear, ma'am."

Motoko then looked over at me. Suddenly, her eyes changed to her usual angry and pissed off glare. She raised her sword high in the air and swung.

"ZANGAKEN!"

I had no time to react before I found myself thrown back through Su's room, hitting what felt like every branch and leave on the way through. So, Naru thanks me, Su's dropkicks me, and Motoko attacks me – wonderful. I immediately got up from the crater I landed in and back to my feet. Motoko was already in front of me, sword drawn and ready to strike.

"No wait, stop, Motoko-chan!" Keitaro ran in and prevented her from attacking any further.

"You're defending the same person who has attacked you?"

"Motoko, he's just saved us!" Naru said, also stopping Motoko from skewering me. "He's on our side."

Motoko looked from Keitaro, to Naru, then back to me. She calmed down and sheathed her sword, but she was still sceptical and unwilling to trust me all too much. Again, I would not blame her at all for that. My track record wasn't exactly the best.

"Thanks, both of you" I said, thanking Naru and Keitaro.

While Keitaro smiled back, Naru's expression then changed a bit.

"You may have helped us, but don't think you're off the hook _that_ easily."

"Understood, ma'am," I replied simply. "Alright, we're all present and accounted for? Let's haul ass back to the teahouse."

Everybody then proceeded for the exit. Just then, Naru then turned around and looked behind her for a moment.

"Wait, what about Tama-chan?"

Oh right – Tama-chan. I suppose she, regardless of being a turtle of unknown species, was a resident just as much. I should have thought about that earlier.

"Don't worry, Narusegawa, Tama-chan's over there," Keitaro reassured, pointing towards Motoko. "She's over there; on...Motoko-chan's…shoulder…"

A thick silence then hung over the residents as they realized what Keitaro was talking about. Motoko froze in her footsteps as she heard what Keitaro said. She then looked at her shoulder. There she was, green shell and smiling face and all…

"Myu! Myu!"

A single, ear piercing scream was released, so loud and so high pitched I swore my eardrums were going to burst. This was the side of Motoko I had never thought existed and would never have even thought was possible for a person like her. Regardless of how impossible it seemed, it was happening. Motoko continued to scream while she thrashed about, swinging her sword in a useless attempt to pry off Tama-chan, or worse.

Motoko then stopped, patting her back and self down in case Tama-chan was still clinger to her. She sighed, relieved.

"Is it gone?"

"Uh…Motoko-chan…" Keitaro weakly said, pointing above Motoko's head.

Motoko looked up – and probably didn't see anything the moment Tama-chan landed on her face. She screamed for a moment, then stopped and fell backwards. Motoko, a seemingly hardened and experienced swordswoman and warrior, had fainted because of a turtle. It was only now that everybody rushed to her aid.

"Motoko-chan? Motoko-chan!" Naru tried to wake Motoko up, but she was out cold.

"Myu? Myu?"

"Hey Tama-chan, you shouldn't be scaring Motoko-chan like that" Keitaro said soothingly to the small reptile as he picked her up.

"And for that, I'm going to eat you…" Su threatened, drool forming in her mouth.

Keitaro took care to keep Tama-chan from Su's hands. I knelt next to Motoko and checked her over. I was still quite surprised over her fear of turtles. She stared down the barrel of my sidearm and neither blinked nor surrendered, and she was definitely not scared of me and the weapons I possessed, but turtles? For Christ's sake, she fainted!

"We've got to move. Somebody carry her sword. I'll carry her" I ordered.

I handed her sword off to Naru, and slung my rifle in front of me. Reaching for her, I slung Motoko over my shoulder and stood up, ready to move. She was actually quite light, even for her size. It was a relief – it wasn't like what the movies suggested. Carrying a wounded buddy over your shoulder is actually quite tiring. For Commonwealth soldiers, fitted with bulky and heavy combat armour and lots of gear, it was as bad as getting tortured.

We moved on, exiting Su's room and moving down the stairs and to the lobby. I kept one hand on my sidearm and an eye on my motion tracker but found nothing. The return trip was actually quite uneventful. Along the way, we passed by the numerous remains of the Mecha-Tamas I took out on my way through the building. With the exception of Su, the others looked on quietly over the amount of damage I had done.

"You're such a meanie, blowing up and shooting my precious Mecha-Tamas!" Su berated me once again just as we exited the front of the inn and got outside. Interestingly, the explosions and detonations in the distance had stopped.

"Well this wouldn't have happened if these creations of yours didn't go crazy," I explained dryly. "And that reminds me, how many of these did you even build? I need to find all of the remainders and take those ones out."

"I only built one Mecha-Tama."

I stopped and looked at Su. My helmet's heads-up-display covered my irritated glare.

"I have taken out more than _fifty_ of these things, and you tell me you only built one?"

"Really, I only built one Mecha-Tama," Su explained. "The ones you were shooting at – they are the mass produced models."

Mass produced? These things were being made in large quantities? What the _hell_?

"Explain, please."

"I only built one Mecha-Tama, the same one you shot at the night you ruined my wedding gown."

"Recovered vital intelligence regarding future equipment, you mean" I corrected.

"What did you shoot my precious Mecha-Tama with that night?" Su demanded.

Careful to keep a hand on Motoko's body, I reached into a pouch and pulled out one of the ring airfoil rounds and handed it to Su. Everybody gathered around her and got a closer look at the small plastic round.

"What is this?" Naru asked.

"It's a ring airfoil round, a less-than-lethal device meant to take a target down without harming them" I explained.

Su turned it around and kept examining it as though it were something completely alien.

"Come on, this thing isn't new, it's around even today."

"But it doesn't do anything, like scramble computer circuitry?"

"Of course not – it's a plastic round I launch from my rifle. I hit Keitaro with one of these and he's still fine" I continued.

Keitaro shot an annoyed glare in my direction. That's right – I _shot_ one of these at him and I was playing the whole thing off as innocent.

"Whatever the reason," Su continued, handing me back the round. "The circuitry in my Mecha-Tama was so messed up afterwards it stopped responding to my orders and it went rogue awhile ago and got loose. It was carrying some new features I just added, like a self-replicating internal constructor able to produce more simplified, mass production versions of itself."

Was I hearing this right? There was a robotic turtle somewhere out there _breeding_ more robotic turtles. That was…creepy. As the general quote and rule regarding this sort of stuff went – robots building robots: that's just stupid. But why would shooting the robot with a single ring airfoil round cause it to go rogue? Was the force of the impact strong enough to damage its internal programming and circuitry? It seemed like that so far, but there were still some things that seemed off.

"That's impossible." I tried to draw back as many memories of that night as possible, even bringing up my mission recorder and analyzing video footage just to be sure. "That thing was the same size as all the other ones. There's no way it could carry some type of factory inside itself and keep reproducing itself."

"I know, so that's why I fitted a self-propagation cycle on it," Su continued to explained, this time rather proudly. "I didn't have time to make a new Mecha-Tama to test it out, so I installed it onto my current model. When given the order, it will consume anything with sufficient biomass or anything electronic and use that to power its system. It will expand and grow at least three hundred times its original size, perhaps even more, and after that it has enough power and bulk to carry out the self-replication. It will also then abandon its previous weapons develop a new set of weapon systems, rockets, the last I remember."

A self-propagation cycle? Expanding t_hree hundred_ _times_ its original size? Self-replication? Rockets? What the _freaking_ hell?

"This is bullshit," I said. "You're telling me you made a machine capable of self-growth and reproduction practically to the level of an organic life form, something which our scientists in the 22nd century have not even come close to developing! That just isn't possible."

"Well, your scientists must suck then. If you're really from the future, I'm disappointed in where science will be going" Su replied. She was actually, and genuinely, disappointed.

I wanted to keep arguing. This was not making any sense. I was interrupted when the ground started to shake. I tried to yell, but distant rumbling covered my voice. My motion tracker picked up something moving – something _big_. I turned to its direction, located off to one side of the inn, probably around a hundred metres off. It was huge, fifty to sixty metres tall, maybe more, and that was just height. Whatever this was, it was also wide and long. The clouds of smoke and billowing leaves surrounding it eventually faded, and through it appeared the head of what looked like a giant robotic turtle standing on its hind legs.

There it was – Su's Mecha-Tama. It was the one, the same one capable of growing and reproducing itself. It was standing there, way more than three hundred times its original size, towering above the inn and everybody else.

"You…have…_got_…to be…_shitting me_!"

"I don't think she is" Keitaro nervously replied.

The giant Mecha-Tama then looked in our direction. It turned itself towards us, shaking the ground as it moved with its huge limbs, and its head pivoted and looked down at us.

"Uh…shouldn't we be moving?" Naru asked.

"Shouldn't we be _running_?" Sarah asked, visibly shaking from where she stood.

"We should be, but we're not," I pointed out. "Does anybody feel like a jog? A sprint, maybe?"

We then broke off running. There wasn't a way to describe it – we just ran as far and as fast as our legs and carry us. The Mecha-Tama roared, and seconds later, something exploded behind us. Su was right – it was packing rockets. If I had to guess, maybe it was the reason for all the explosions just before. Another explosion went off behind us with as much force as the last. I had no time to look where it was shooting at – I had to get the hell out of its way.

"There it is! The teahouse, we're almost there!" Keitaro shouted in joy.

Everybody pushed forth with renewed vigour, desperate to reach the teahouse. I was at the very rear, much to my misfortune. Well of course, I was carrying Motoko as well, so it was explainable at least. I was getting close. The others were already inside. It was up to me to get Motoko in safely. Suddenly, another explosion detonated. It must have been quite close to me – I felt the force of the explosion push me aside and force me to the ground. I had no time to rest. I had to get back up. When I did, I realized Motoko was no longer with me. She was laying six or seven metres from where I was. She was moving a bit, probably waking up. I ran towards her and picked up her, resuming my desperate dash for the teahouse. During this, she had regained consciousness and realized I was carrying her.

"Let go of me! Let go of me!"

She struggled, but I held on long enough to get inside the teahouse. I set her down on a table and immediately took up a position next to the door looking out towards the Mecha-Tama. The residents rejoiced, having made it to safety. Shinobu was particularly happy to see Keitaro again. While nice to see they were all reunited, we were all far from safe.

"Incoming!" I screamed, bracing myself.

Another rocket landed close by, throwing up dirt and rocks, some getting inside the teahouse.

"Are you sure the police won't do anything about _that_?" I asked Haruka.

"Definitely not," she replied. Haruka was still calm and cool, despite the fact there was a giant robotic turtle wreaking havoc outside. She took up a position opposite of me, her pistol in hand. "Everybody, get down!"

The ground shook again. Another rocket found its mark, getting closer and closer to the teahouse. A single rocket from this thing would easily demolish the building. It was unacceptable. I needed to take this thing out.

"Su, is there a way to disable it? Is there some type of weak spot on it?" I demanded.

"Let me think…" Su replied, rubbing her chin in deep thought.

Yet another rocket found its mark, shaking the ground even more. I could hear the scattered cries from the residents. They were scared. Of course – who wouldn't be, particularly when rockets were raining outside?

"Think faster!"

"Got it!" Su triumphantly shouted. "There's a computer terminal on its back that I use for debugging purposes. It controls all of the Mecha-Tama and if we can get to it, we can get it open and enter a username and password and shut it down from there."

A terminal, on its back? Well, it was a solution at least. The problem was it was on its back. This means having to get close to it, scaling its back, and finding this computer terminal. It also means having to get past its barrage of rockets.

This was just brilliant, not in a terrible way, however. It was the sort of thing that required a Commonwealth soldier to resolve. Commonwealth soldiers were given all the equipment and training necessary to establish complete and total operational supremacy in any battlefield we would fight in.

I unloaded my utility launcher, since shotgun shells weren't going to help against this beast. I looked back out at the Mecha-Tama, trying to find at least something to work with.

"What kind of armour is it and how thick is it?" I asked.

"One inch, mostly steel and some other materials like Kevlar and other ceramics, a bit of Chobham composite armour" Su replied. It looks like she had mixed a whole range of materials for its armour.

It was quite substantial, but it wasn't that much, actually. By 22nd century standards, that was more like a light tank. A Walker probably had better armour than that. My 6.8mm rounds could probably penetrate but that was difficult to tell. I needed a bit more _kick_. I reached for the storage areas in the back of my vest and pulled out some ammunition for my launcher. The Bloc often brought armour on us, but we had a variety of weapons to combat them. I didn't have an antitank weapon with me, since it wasn't required for the mission I was taking part in just before, but I did have several 20mm armour piercing rounds. To call the black grenade-like shells merely 'armour piercing' didn't give them enough credit. They were heavy, fin-stabilised depleted uranium flechette rounds able to punch through the hull of a Bloc APC. Powerful, accurate, and absolutely devastating – just part of an extensive arsenal that made the Commonwealth soldier a force to be reckoned with.

"How does it aim its rockets?" I asked Su, again, trying to get as much information about my target as possible.

"It's eyes." Su pointed towards her own, symbolising the Mecha-Tama's eyes. "Those are its most accurate form of target acquisition. After that, it uses its scanners to lock its missiles, but I never got the target locking as accurate as I wanted it."

Sounds fair – I needed to blind it. My ammunition would be more than sufficient for that task. Of course, I needed a bit of help, especially to protect the teahouse and all the residents.

"Motoko? Can you use your sword?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your sword," I said again, pointing towards the katana being held in Naru's hands. "If you can, I may require you to help. If any rockets head towards the teahouse, I may require you to take them down before they hit. That is, if you are able to do so. If not, I'll run the gauntlet myself."

Motoko stepped forward, eager to prove herself. She picked up her sword from Naru and unsheathed it.

"I will do my part in protecting us all."

She wasn't going to help me, actually. Motoko stepped in only to defend everybody else. More chances than naught, she was probably going to do that anyways, without me ordering her to do it. Hell, if she had the chance to take me out, I figure she'd do it. Regardless of why she chose to step in, Motoko was going to do her part. She made her way to the roof of the teahouse and took up a post there.

The next part was up to me.

"Here, take this." I handed a small, portable radio to Su, just before I would enact my part of the task. These small devices were mostly useless, given our helmet mounted communications equipment, but they had their uses every often. "It'll connect straight to me, just press the button and talk."

I popped out of the teahouse and took aim. My HUD zoomed in on the Mecha-Tama's head and provided me with targeting aids. I lined up with the first eye, switched over to my utility launcher and fired. The armour piercing round left the muzzle at a ferocious velocity, shedding the sabots as it did. It struck the left eye straight-on, cleanly entering and blowing out the back in devastating result. The Mecha-Tama roared at me, as though in pain, which was ultimately unlikely I hope. It slammed an arm on the ground and fired a series of rockets for the teahouse.

"ZANGAKEN!"

As they approached, their flight path noticeably shook and veered off, detonating in midair fractions of a second later. Motoko was doing her part, thank goodness. I had to keep up mine. I pumped the slide, lined up with the next eye, and fired. Once again, a direct hit. It was now without its sight, and its ability to accurately aim its rockets. My motion tracker picked up movement, multiple contacts heading straight towards the teahouse – more of the mass produced Mecha-Tamas. So, they actually were coming from the big Mecha-Tama. I switched back to single shot and opened fire. There were at least a dozen moving in at a time in waves. Usually, this would have been easy to deal with, but that was assuming I would hunker down and pick them off. I had to move forward and take the offensive.

Several shots rang out from Haruka's weapon as she joined in picking off the numerous hostiles. She fired off her entire magazine and then reloaded swiftly before joining in again. With Motoko at the roof holding back the rockets and Haruka providing some defence, everything was in place. I moved out of the teahouse, charging headlong towards the big Mecha-Tama. It was probably slightly more than a hundred metres off, meaning I'd have to run a fair distance through the slight forest around Hinata Inn under fire from the many mass produced turtles and the main one itself.

I about half of the way to the edge of the trees when more of the smaller Mecha-Tamas came into sight. Haruka kept up her quick bursts of fire from the teahouse, while I did what I could from my position. The small ones weren't terribly hard to destroy, but rather, irritating to have to constantly deal with. Given how I was going to be moving in the relative close quarters of the forest and trees, I unloaded the armour piercing rounds and jammed the shotgun shells into my launcher.

I then realized I was standing still - and that there was a rocket heading straight for me.

I tried to get out of its way, but it hit the ground only a metre-and-a-half to my right. The air thickened around me and my entire body was slammed by a subsonic fist rivalling that of Naru. No different from a rag doll, I was thrown aside and forced to the ground. It wasn't merely the force of the rocket, but the detonation deafened me. My breaths were short and panicked huffs while everything else was faded and blurred. I gagged for a moment, and then coughed out blood into my facemask. The nanites would probably already be at work cleaning the mess up. I got back to my feet. The rule was, when shot and not at any risk of bleeding out, get back up and keep moving. The longer I stayed on the ground meant more time I'd spend as an easy target for my enemy.

Getting back to my feet, I picked up my rifle and continued to run towards the Mecha-Tama. While I did, I reached for a nanite injector and jabbed its nozzle into a suit seal, injecting a fresh batch of over-energised nanites into my body. The other group I injected after breaking free of my cell were still operating inside me. This current group would either help whatever current wounds I've taken or act as a battle stimulant and keep me moving.

My motion tracker flashed – more contacts. My HUD locked onto them just as I crossed into the woods. I had no time to stop, I had to keep moving. Switching back to my utility launcher, I fired off the first shell as soon as I approached the group of incoming Mecha-Tama. The area was tight and offered no space for either them or me to manoeuvre – perfect for a 20mm shotgun shell. I had cleared out a gap in their wave for me to keep advancing. Jumping over gnarled roots and ducking under branches and leaves, I stopped for nothing, firing a shotgun shell every often to clear my path. The smaller Mecha-Tamas weren't exactly concerned with me.

They should be.

I was getting closer and closer to the big one. A display on my HUD displayed the rapidly dwindling distance between us. By the time it came out to last twenty metres, I exited into a clearing. The Mecha-Tama stood in the centre, rockets firing off from opened compartments on its shell. It was a behemoth, definitely larger than any vehicle fielded by the Commonwealth armoured divisions. Then again, it wasn't the most mobile, being confined this single clearing as it slowly advanced.

Raising my rifle, I fired a burst at its head, just to get its attention. If I was lucky, I could reduce the damage it would do on the inn and teahouse by making it focus on me. It may be blind, but I suppose its scanners could at least pick some something small like me harassing it. The new volley of rockets it fired was, indeed, being redirected at me. Rolling out of their way, I kept up this process. This was going to be between it and me.

"_Helloooo? Can you hear me?"_

"I read you, Su," I replied over my helmet's built-in radio. "I'm at your Mecha-Tama's location. Now, where's this terminal at?"

"_It's on top of his shell and it's a hexagonal plate marked in yellow. You should see it. The username is _Kaolla S._, password: _banana_. The 'k' and the's' in the username are capitalised, and the password is all lowercase. Just pull the hatch and it will open."_

'Kaolla S', and 'banana' – got it.

More compartments popped open on its back and more volleys of rockets fired off. I quickly dodged them, and as soon as I was steady, I reached for and loaded a grenade in my launcher. Another compartment opened, ready to unload its payload yet again. I snapped my rifle up, taking aim with the newly changed set of grenade launcher sights in my HUD. The 20mm grenade left the launcher and found its mark inside the compartment. It destroyed not only that compartment and the others around it, but also detonated the other rockets possibly stored underneath, severely damaging that section of its back.

I ran forward, weaving in and out and in between its limbs before finding a section close enough to the ground for me to climb up with. My gloves and boots had nanites along their surface able to reposition themselves and provide better traction. It wouldn't let me walk freely on its back, but when crawling on all fours, I could make better progress. I slowly began to crawl up the Mecha-Tama's shell, while keeping a lookout for a yellow coloured plate. Of course I wouldn't see it here – I needed to be up _there_, right at the peak of the shell.

More movement – a pair of compartments popped open. Instead of missiles, these ones were packing automatic weapons. The brief barrage of automatic fire caught me by surprise. Whatever calibre they fired, it must have been decently sized. I lost my footing and found myself rolling backwards. I was lucky to have grabbed hold of the shell and stabilise myself long enough for me to position my feet and steady myself. Crawling back up to where I was, I took aim with my launcher and fired a grenade into the first compartment. I didn't have the time or the ability to pump the launcher, so I merely fired at the second one. The 6.8mm rounds pierced through the small turret, and eventually the weapon itself stopped firing.

Christ, the back of this thing was like a damn minefield, only instead of mines, there were hidden automatic weapons. Hell, I was sure there were _more_ than just guns hidden here, but I'd rather not find out firsthand.

Slinging my rifle, I crawled up with a quicker pace, looking side to side for this apparent panel. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted it, a yellow painted hexagonal plate. Bingo. I quickly moved towards it and examined it briefly. Su did say there was a hatch I was supposed to operate…_there_! The hatch was in the centre of the panel. I lifted it and pulled, the entire panel lifting as well, then sliding out of the way. Underneath it was a small computer screen and a keyboard.

Something hit my chest. I didn't even have to guess what it was – another turret must have opened up on me. I took aim and fired a pair of bursts into it, putting it out of commission. The bullets weren't hurting me, but they were annoying as hell, like the gnats that hovered in retarded circles in front of your helmet's HUD.

I typed in the username: Kaolla S, and then the username, 'banana.' This was it – I had won. This was yet another case of a Commonwealth soldier establishing operational supremacy. Whether it was war itself or something as trivial as this, the Commonwealth soldier, with their weapons, training, and equipment, was a perfect fighting specimen.

_Error! Username and password combination is incorrect. Please retype username and password. _

…

_SON OF A BITCH._

I tried again, making sure I typed both in correctly.

_Error! Username and password combination is incorrect. Please retype username and password. _

I tried yet again, making sure I had typed everything in with the appropriate upper and lower casing.

_Error! Username and password combination is incorrect. Please retype username and password. _

K-A-O-L-L-A, space, S, right? The password was _banana_, all in lowercases. I typed that in.

_Error! Username and password combination is incorrect. Please retype username and password. _

…

_You _must_ be kidding me…_

I tried everything – different spacing, lettering, periods, and all that, but the same error message kept appearing. This was slowly beginning to irritate me. Just _accept_ the _bloody_ password _already_! Again and again, I tried different combinations and patterns.

_Error! Username and password combination is incorrect. Please retype username and password. _

"_I-ALREADY-RETYPED-THE-USERNAME-AND-PASSWORD-YOU-STUPID-PIECE-OF-SHIT!_"

"_Helloooo? Soldier-guy, are you there? Did you say something?"_

"Your username and password aren't working, Su" I reported, trying to refrain from swearing and cursing with all my might.

"_They aren't working? Oh, that's bad."_

Really? Such a _pleasant_ surprise.

"_The Mecha-Tama must have reprogrammed its own password. You've got to keep trying until you can disable it."_

Keep trying? Was Su kidding me? How was I supposed to _guess_ a password?

Suddenly, a trio of turrets opened up on the Mecha-Tama's back and opened fire. The rounds struck me across the chest and I lost my footing. I rolled backwards down the shell, unable to grab hold of anything to stop myself. My tumble came to a sudden and painful stop moments later. I had rolled off of the Mecha-Tama and back onto the ground. At this point, I was pissed. Actually, 'pissed' wasn't even the word to describe it. I was _furious_ and _enraged_. I _hated_ this machine. I wanted to _tear it apart_ with my own hands for the frustration it has caused me.

I wanted to _kill_ that thing and _do _things to it best left off-the-record.

"Su, that computer controls the _entire_ machine, right?"

"That computer? What do you mean?"

I dug my hand into the ground, picking up a fistful of dirt and grass, in which I squeezed. People have different methods of relieving their anger – this was mine. I needed to keep myself steady. Being _too_ angry reduced my ability to think rationally.

"If I do _something_ to _that_ computer, the _entire_ turtle will be _affected_ by it, right?"

"_Um…yeah, it would be, but-"_

"Understood – engaging."

I loaded my rifle with the shotgun shells and swapped out my magazine. I then ran back up the Mecha-Tama's shell. The computer terminal was just ahead, and so where the three turrets. As soon as I came into range, they opened fire. So did I. My IW52 was set on three round burst. At this point, I was too angry to stick to single shot. I fired a set of bursts into the first turret, then the next, and then the last. I was unaware of how much ammunition I was actually using – I simply fired off what I felt was appropriate to convert the turrets back to the _scrap metal_ they started out as.

With those out of the way, I walked up to the computer terminal. The error message flashed on the screen, mocking, and laughing at me. I levelled the muzzle of my rifle's utility launcher at the screen and switched fire modes. The moment I pulled the trigger, the computer exploded. I pumped the slide and fired again, and again, and again, until I expended all my shotgun ammunition.

The Mecha-Tama stopped moving and lurched forward but once before it collapsed. It had shut down, at last. I had defeated it, _finally_! I undid my helmet straps, lowered my facemask and took in a deep breath of the cool, night air. During the brief amount of time I've spent here, I can actually say I've missed my normal day-to-day routine I developed during the war.

Getting off of the Mecha-Tama, I began my trek back to the teahouse. I was calmer now, and the anger that I experienced just moments ago had passed. What was I thinking? I got into such a state of mind that made me ready to kill anything in my way. Conflict always did have its ugly sides and it had a rather unfortunate ability to bring out the worst in anybody.

I thought little of it as I continued my walk. Somewhere in the middle of the woods between the Mecha-Tama and the teahouse, I spotted the residents fanning out and searching the area. No doubt, they had seen the Mecha-Tama fall. Where they looking for me? Did they think I was still alive? I walked out into a clearing and they eventually converged on me. While I knew better than to come back smiling and proud of what I've done, seeing how it isn't much actually, I gave the residents a polite smile as though nothing happened.

"You…you…you defeated Kaolla-san's Mecha-Tama?" Shinobu looked at me with amazement.

"That was pretty cool!" Sarah was at least enthusiastic about the whole thing.

"That was unbelievable" Naru said. I had the feeling she wanted to say more, but she held back. Was her pride preventing her from applauding my efforts any further?

The others remained silent. Keitaro could do nothing but stare at me, as did Kitsune. If I had to guess, the both of them were too shocked for words. Motoko said nothing either. If anything, her pride as a warrior was keeping her from even looking at me.

"Nice work," Haruka complimented, taking a drag of her cigarette. "A little messy, but nicely done."

"All in a day's work, right?" I replied.

I had a bit more to say, but was interrupted when Su dropkicked me for the second time this night.

"You idiot! Do you realize what you've just done?"

"Other than take down a robot bent on destroying the inn, the teahouse, as well as with all of us?" I answered, getting back up to my feet. Without my helmet on, there was nothing but my skull to block Su's foot, and it certainly did not do a good job of it.

"No, you didn't use the username and password!"

"What was I supposed to?" I reasoned. "The machine rejected them, so I did the only thing I could and _BAM, _problem solved."

"I wanted you to use the username and password so my Mecha-Tama will go into standby mode for me to debug and fix" Su explained.

"So, you wanted me to save your science project for you?"

"No, I wanted you to use the username and password so you _won't_ have to attack it like that, and so its self-destruct mechanism doesn't trigger."

Self-destruct mechanism? Was I hearing this right? Su fitted a _self-destruct mechanism_ onto her Mecha-Tama? I stood there, unsure of what else to say, while the others mirrored my thoughts exactly.

"Why would you fit a self-destruct mechanism on it?" Keitaro demanded.

"Myu, myu!"

Tama-chan then landed on my shoulder and gave me a mock salute.

"I fitted it on so during my final battle with Tamago, if she was smart enough to have disabled my Mecha-Tama like that I could still win even afterwards!" Su answered, quite enthusiastically while pointing at Tama-chan with a knife and fork she had produced from almost nowhere.

Okay, so I heard the self-destruct mechanism part just fine. But was I hearing the final battle with Tama-chan part right? I knew Su wanted to eat Tama-chan, but did she build her Mecha-Tama just for that?

"Explain your self-destruct mechanism in detail, please" I said to Su.

"The internal reactor has probably shut down and disengaged itself by now, so only the remaining weapons will be detonated, and everything within seventy metres of it will be blown to bits," Su explained, somewhat proud of her creation. "It's a bit small, but I'll fit a better one on the next version."

"Seventy metres?" Naru asked, somewhat concerned. "Well, how close are we to it?"

I temporarily put my helmet back on and looked back at the Mecha-Tama and used my rangefinders to measure the distance from my position to it. Upon doing so, I then realized there were what looked to be electrical forks arcing off its metal hull. The number of them grew quite dramatically, now catching everybody's attention.

"We're thirty metres off," I reported, taking my helmet off again. I then turned around to face the residents. "And that thing isn't looking too good, so maybe we should…"

I turned back around and realized there was nobody standing there. I could see their rapidly shrinking forms off in the distance, running away at full steam. Even Tama-chan was gone, probably flying alongside them, desperate to get out of range. I chanced one more glance at the Mecha-Tama. It was really starting to light up, as though ready for a huge finale.

Come to think about it, I was less than half of the way out of its range. I _really _needed to get the hell out of there.

I ran as quickly as I could. There was nothing else for me to do – I simply ran. I ducked under the branches and leaves and leapt over the short obstructions. I had quite a distance away when I heard a whining sound behind me. It grew with intensity as the seconds passed, but then came to a sudden stop. After that came what sounded like one of the loudest explosions I've ever heard and experienced. It felt more like a miniature nuclear bomb, the way the explosion knocked the trees and their branches around, stripping them of their leaves in the process. During that, I lost my footing and fell forward. I got back up and continued to run. Behind me, I could hear rumbling. It slowly and violently increased in sound and strength. Was I going to make it? Was I going to get out of its range just in time?

The pressure built up around me, and I found myself unable to stand, let alone run anymore. I was lifted into the air, and my vision slowly began to black out. I held onto my helmet and rifle as best I could, but it was getting increasingly harder to do so. I had blacked out the moment everything came to a sudden, abrupt, and _painful_ stop.

What was I thinking? I should have left my helmet on…too late for that now.

My head…all of this feels familiar somehow. Of course, I experienced this before. Every soldier has a moment where they will be launched through the air by an explosion. Waking up from one afterwards was the worst part. Reality was torn to bits and whacked out of shape. The pain was often so sudden and came without even knowing it. I opened my eyes and blinked a few times, trying to get myself out of the semi-conscious realm I was hovering in.

The memories pieced themselves together inside my head. Through some strange incident, I was sent a century into the past. I've made contact with a variety of residents and encountered things that seemed impossible. I was captured, interrogated, and I helped them fight back against a giant robotic turtle and an army of smaller ones. I destroyed it, but it blew up afterwards, and I was sent flying…

Was this all just some sick dream? Was I waking up and going back into my reality? Was I going to wake up back in 2145, inside a barracks, lying in my cot and staring up at the ceiling above me?

Worse, was I going to wake up with a pair of hairy testicles hanging over my forehead? I snapped awake, daring not to lift my head and get up until I've taken a good look above me. I swear, if I ever caught Ostergard going _that_ again, he wasn't going to have _anything_ left to teabag with.

Luckily, I saw nothing. Then again, I saw a completely different ceiling. It wasn't the dark green cloth material of a tent, nor was it the cold and expressionless grey of the metal and concrete. Everything that happened – it wasn't a dream. I didn't have the luxury of realizing it was one and waking up from it. I was here, in 1999, over a century in the past amongst the people whose descendants I'd be more likely to meet.

I got up and looked around. I was in a room, possibly inside Hinata Inn. It was unfurnished and had no furniture. The only thing that was here was the futon I was on, as well as with my rifle and helmet just across from me. What happened? Did the residents bring me here? Hell, did they help me after that whole being launched into the air episode? I had little time to ponder that, right when the door slid open. Keitaro then entered the room and appeared surprised to see me up. Next to him was Naru, who merely peeked in and smiled.

"Good morning, so you're awake?" Keitaro asked.

"From the looks of things" I groaned, trying to get up.

I tried, but ultimately, I could not. My legs were in pain and could barely move. I could probably stand up, but it would certainly be a struggle trying to do so.

"You might want to rest for awhile," Naru said, walking into the room with Keitaro. "The doctors said you'd need some time to heal."

Doctors? Since when was there a medic here? Wait a minute, unless she was talking about a _real_ doctor.

"How long was I out?" I asked.

"All of yesterday, actually," Keitaro said, recalling whatever happened just recently. "After Su's Mecha-Tama exploded, you were knocked unconscious, probably even into a coma. Aunt Haruka had to call in doctors to look over your injuries. For a moment, they didn't think you were going to make it."

I contemplated that for a moment. Doctors were in here examining me just before, enough to make a prognosis regarding my condition. If so, they've seen my equipment, my armour, and everything else about me. Did they know I was from the future? While my mind was in that area, I reached for one of my nanites injectors. Either by luck or through surprise, they were still with me. I stuck it into a seal and injected the nanites. My legs were where the most damage was at, but they weren't too bad. A few minutes with these nanites and I could probably walk flawlessly.

"Wait, what are those? We saw you stab yourself with one of those the night before" Naru asked.

"You know those medical kits from video games, the ones that work instantly and heal all your wounds? This is the real life equivalent to them."

After making the injection, I tossed aside the canister. I could feel the nanites already taking effect.

"Anyways, keep going, what happened? These doctors, did they see anything?"

"Don't worry, the doctors are close friends of Aunt Haruka's," Keitaro explained, his information being of much relief. "They agreed not to tell of this, and they certainly won't."

"Come on you idiot, how could they not agree when she has a gun pressed up to their foreheads threatening to kill their families?"

Well, that last bit had me brought upon new feelings of relief as well as humour. I could almost see Haruka doing that. It was a great thing, however. This meant at least part of my secret would stay here.

"Anyways, after Su's Mecha-Tama blew up, we found you unconscious and we decided to bring you back to the inn," Keitaro explained. "You were hurt quite bad, actually. The doctors said you weren't going to survive, but then they were stumped right after they discovered you were recovering. You've been sleeping in this room for all of yesterday recovering."

"What about my equipment? Was any of it disturbed or removed from me?"

"None of it," Naru replied. "The only things we touched were your gun and your helmet, and that was when we brought you back to Hinata Sou. We didn't take anything off of you at all."

Again, I was relieved. My identity and my equipment were safe. Better yet, my nanites were doing their thing and I was still alive. All in all, I was victorious.

"Are you hungry? Shinobu-chan is making breakfast" Keitaro asked.

Breakfast? That sounded _really_ good. I was quite hungry, actually. Of course, I spent more than a day unconscious and the thought of eating my ration bars didn't appeal at all. That was, however, in contrast to the thought of warm, cooked, and tasty food – something no soldier would reject.

"Breakfast? I'm in, let's go."

I then slowly got up. My legs had drastically improved. The pain was gone and my legs were now able to move much more freely now. As I got to my feet, I took a moment to stretch my arms and neck. During that, Keitaro and Naru looked on with shock. They probably weren't expecting me to be up and at it so soon.

"Wait a minute, you can move now?" Keitaro asked.

"It's all in the nanomachines, Keitaro," I replied. "Come on, let's get some breakfast, I'm dying here."

"Shouldn't you take your armour off?" Naru asked me, pointing out my rather bulky and nigh-robotic combat armour.

"It takes me ten minutes to get out of this and that's if I have help," I replied dryly. "Don't worry, I've practically lived in this suit for years now and I'd rather keep it on anyways."

Naru looked at me as though I was insane. Who wouldn't? Especially in twentieth century thought, the idea of staying in a heavy suit like the one I was wearing for any long period of time was not pleasant. Fortunately, it wasn't for me. If I had to guess, I haven't taken off this same suit for at least eight weeks so far.

"Okay, let's go-AHH!"

Keitaro was just at the door when he stepped on something and lost balance. A closer look revealed it was my injector case. I tossed it aside, and it must have landed close to where the door was, and Keitaro just happened to be unlucky enough to have stepped on it. He flopped about for a moment with his hands flailing around, trying to grab hold of something. Keitaro's hand finally did, and what he grabbed hold of managed to give him the support necessary for him to stand himself back up.

That object he grabbed hold of just happened to be Naru's left breast.

"What? You…you…" Naru then angrily clenched her fist.

"No wait, it was an accident Narusegawa! It was an accident!"

"You pervert!"

Her fist struck the side of Keitaro's head, and he was sent flying out the room and down the hallway just outside. Naru had one arm modestly covering her chest, while the other was outstretched. I looked from her fist to the crumbled form of Keitaro located somewhere down the hallway with his head buried inside a wall. It wasn't the first time I've seen Naru utterly destroy Keitaro, but hell, it only reminds me never to cross her.

"Say, remember all that stuff you two mentioned, how the doctors didn't think I was going to survive and how they didn't know why I was recovering?" I asked Naru, who brought her fist back in.

"What about it?"

"Yeah, what do they say about _him_?"


	6. MOOTW

**Motion on a fourth dimensional plane**

Note: Ack, it's been awhile.

School sucks, period. The past three months were like hell for me. In between struggling with math for no apparent reason and having to do either English essays or Physics labs, I found I had very little time to write. Worse, I found myself unable to write for long durations of time. The day I shall no longer have to do a lab write-up and talk about how certain physics principles apply to an experiment will be a great day for me indeed.

School and such aside, onto Motion.

Not much for this chapter actually. Dialogue killed me here, as it did with all my other fics I tried to write during this. I was able to keep going, however, and I eventually got it done. This chapter has a bit more info about Sergeant Randall, and up until now, is the most detailed regarding Sergeant Randall. Of course, I am leaving out certain bits until the later future, where they will help to display him and everything even more. For the moment, this chapter is the first of many bits of him adapting to life at Hinata-Sou. It may turn out to be a bit comedic from what I have planned, but I won't whack it too much out of proportion. But, throw in a veteran soldier with the already crazy group that consists of Love Hina and most should expect a bit of comic relief now and then.

Of course, there will still be the gritty war flashbacks every often, and a bit more. Those, I know I will have a great amount of fun writing when I get to them.

All in all, not much else. Onto the chapter. In the meantime, I need to sleep, study math, and hopefully keep up with my writing…

…ugh…

* * *

Chapter 6: MOOTW

Eating breakfast around the residents was quite…awkward. I actually should have taken off my armour when I had the chance. But, seeing how I did not think of that before, I was now sitting at the table in full military gear, minus my helmet, with a disproportionately sized bowl of rice in my thick gloved hands. I finished my fourth bowl of rice as well as with some other side dishes, while the residents had barely started their first. All sets of eyes were on me, and while I decided not to turn my head to look behind me, I could have sworn Su occasionally climbed onto my back to examine me closer.

"This is delicious" I finally said, breaking what felt like an eternity of silence, complementing on Shinobu's fine cooking. Indeed, it was quite fine. Definitely better than military rations and even more so than that stuff they give us at base camps.

"Thank you!" she happily exclaimed. "Are you still hungry?"

"No, I'm fine."

I set the bowl aside. I probably shouldn't have, since it left me sitting still with nothing to do but look back at everybody while they were staring at me. Now that the truth about me was out, I could understand everybody's sudden interest - there was a soldier from the future sitting at their table eating breakfast with them. How could they not want to sit there and observe me? In a way, I felt like some of those specimens I once examined under a microscope back in school. I now understood what they probably felt – varying shades of awkwardness.

"Again, I want to thank everybody for accepting me here," I said. "These are some rather bizarre circumstances, and the fact that everybody was willing to look past it is of great assistance to me."

"Don't worry about it, we forgive you" Keitaro replied. Strangely, he was in a relatively good spirits, even after all that has happened. Hell, he was still in good condition, even after being hit by Naru _again_.

The residents had accepted me. After coming out of the room and meeting with them face-to-face for the actual first time, they were all bright and positive and introduced themselves nicely. It would appear as though my actions the other night worked for everybody's benefit – they were safe, the inn and teahouse weren't demolished, and I had something to do that I connected quite well with. I could tell, however, there was still a level of distrust and scepticism still present.

Then again, that level of distrust and scepticism was probably them wanting to know what sort of future was in store for them.

"So, you're from the future?" Kitsune asked curiously. "What's it like? Do you have a flying car? Food in pill form? Clones? _Robots? Robot-Clones?!_"

This was going to be quite difficult to cope with. Any information I give could potentially screw the future up. It's best if I say nothing, or at least keep quiet about specific details.

"Not exactly" I replied weakly.

"Come on…tell us something," Kitsune purred as she got closer to me. "Anything? Can you at least tell us about yourself?"

That last bit seemed to catch everybody attention. I suppose it wouldn't be that bad to tell them something about me, seeing how I was going to live with them for an unspecified amount of time. Of course, I had to keep within military protocol, Article 4-C in particular, and keep certain details in secrecy. Then again, how does protocol even relate to a situation like _this_? Hell, I just found a major loophole in the system for a time when it _needs_ a rule.

"Well, I'm a soldier, I'm currently holding the rank of Sergeant First Class, and I have been a soldier for the last eight years."

"Eight years?" Su was practically sliding on the table, amazed by that number.

It was true – I have served in the Commonwealth military for eight years now. I started decently young, did a few tours in brushfire conflicts and peacekeeping missions prior to The War and kept going until now. Come to think about it, this was the first time I've actually thought about how long I've been in the military. Eight years is quite a fair bit of time. I suppose the expression, _'time flies when you're having fun'_ holds true even for my situation.

"How old are you?" Shinobu asked as she brought more food to the table for the others to eat.

"I'm twenty-six years old."

"Wait, so you joined the army when you were…eighteen? Wouldn't you have just finished high school?" Naru asked.

I nodded my head in agreement.

"I finished high school, did some time in university, and then joined up," I explained. "I decided to go career when I did it."

"Career?" Sarah asked. "Doesn't that mean you've decided to be a soldier, like, forever?"

"Pretty much, until I choose to retire, at least."

There was a collective feeling of amazement that came from the residents. True, I had decided go the career route and stay in the military. It was something other people never cared too much about when I first did it, except for those who asked why I decided to waste my life like that. Five years later, when The War began, they then started to look at me differently. I decided to join the military for a career, and now there was a war going on – 'are you stupid?' I was asked; 'aren't you throwing away your life?' familiar people and old friends asked me.

"But why? Why would you even join the army?" Keitaro asked.

Interesting – I was rarely asked that. Of all the things I could have done, I decided to join the army. Of all the career paths that were laid out in front of me following high school with more promising results and benefits – and wages – I decided to spend the rest of my life serving in the military. My mind tried to find the same reasons it had agreed on back then. Was it for the sake of service? During that time, the world was quite a fragile place. The Commonwealth and the Bloc were at each others throats and each side never ceased to try and provoke open war. Did I join for what then seemed like a possible war? Or was it related to personal decisions? Did I join to prove something, to my family?

Did I join to prove something, to _myself_?

"It's hard to say." I went for the most ambiguous answer, possibly, because I didn't have the real reason myself. "I thought about it for awhile, and it seemed like a good idea at the time for me, and I was willing to do my part in the grand scheme of things."

"I don't agree about a career that involves purposefully ending the lives of others."

From her seat at the far end of the table, Motoko's comment prompted silence from the others. The part of me that grew used to war and accepted it completely disagreed, and wanted to tell her that, especially seeing how she trained and carried a sword with her. However, that side was the same one that often got soldiers reprimands when dealing with civilians. I'm better than that – I outgrew that during the time I spent as a Corporal.

"If it helps, think of me as someone who picked the wrong choice of career and has no way out of it until it all blows over" I answered.

My answer only elevated the curiousness of the residents.

"What do you mean by 'no way out'?" Keitaro asked. "Is there something going on in the future?"

"_World War Three?_" Naru added, rather horrified. "Is there a war in the future?"

Everybody must have at least known what World War III meant. Then again, it would be another two years before they would see the logical start of it. This was the point where I could not tell them anything, particularly regarding the fact that my war was logically the _fourth_ World War.

"I can't answer that."

The curiousness of the residents faded into disappointment. They wouldn't be receiving an exclusive first look into the future – that's for sure.

"Come on, can't you give us something?" Kitsune asked, begging. "A hint, maybe?"

"Well, you've seen all my equipment," I replied. "If somebody like me is running around with kit like that, you know at least something's going on."

The residents were pushed into disappointment yet again. They wanted something more concrete than that, but I was going to give them the benefit of free thought. By giving such inconclusive and ambiguous answers, they were left to figure out what I meant.

"So, if you're not going to tell us anything, does that mean you're not going to tell us why you're here?" Kitsune asked.

"Believe me, if I knew why I was here, I would say it" I answered, somewhat half-truthfully. I probably wouldn't say it, actually, but it did provide a rather nice answer.

I did have to wonder, though, why was I here? Of all the soldiers in the Commonwealth, why was it only me that was sent back through time? Furthermore, why did this thing even happen?

"Wait, this thing that's happening in the future," Kitsune asked again. "Is it serious?"

The War was quite a serious thing. It was a large scale war between two ideologies, a revival of the old East versus West, Communism versus Democracy. If one side lost, the other would take over and that ideology would rule supreme over the entire planet. Then again, it was only serious to those who actually understood inside and out the political ramifications of what would happen.

"You _could_ say that" I responded.

"Serious enough that your leaders decided to send a _hero_ back in time to stop it from ever happening?" Kitsune continued. She really got into it. She was standing, with her arms outstretched in front of her, with her eyes opened and her face locked in a crazed expression.

"In order to the collective robotic hegemony, the last of mankind's valiant resistance sends back their finest soldier and hero over a century into the past to change history and prevent their future war from ever erupting!"

By now, Kitsune was actually standing on the table with her arms raised while screaming her prediction in the most outrageous voice possible. Everybody at the table stared up at her and continued so without a word. An awkward minute or two passed by. I'll admit, it was the most illogical prediction I've yet to hear from anybody. Sure, I had a Silver Star and I did a good job of leading my squad, well enough that command had nice things to say about me, but _the_ finest soldier? A hero, even?

It was flattering, but in spite of that, I had to realise it simply wasn't so in my case – _quite_ sadly.

"You were watching _Terminator_ again, weren't you?" Keitaro asked, breaking the silence.

Kitsune hopped off the table and back into her chair.

"Of course, it's such a good movie, and Shuwa-chan is sooooo _sexy!_"

"Shuwa-chan?" I asked, confused.

"Arnold Schwarzenegger, the famous Austrian body building and actor," Naru explained for me. "In Japan, he has the nickname _Shuwa-chan_."

"Oh, the _Governor_" I said, thinking out loud.

Come to think about, I _really_ need to stop doing that. Especially when the information I'm thinking out loud happens to be information they don't need to know yet.

"Wait, _what_?" Kitsune was right in front of me, with a look of surprise on her face. No doubt, she had heard 'governor' and wanted to know more.

"Uh…of course, Arnold Schwarzenegger is the governor…of…guns…yeah, the Governor of Guns," I said. My mind was a mess, pulling up as many words as possible that would make sense. Hell, 'Governor of Guns?' What kind of dumb shit was _that_? I've BS-ed a hell of a lot before, but nothing like _that_.

"As part of a tribute to the numerous action movies he had made, my squad gave him the nickname 'the Governor of Guns', stuff like that."

Wait a minute - was Schwarzenegger even an action star? Was I getting this right, or was I pinning this on the wrong person? I knew I heard the name from somewhere, something about a famous actor becoming a governor or something, and that his push from actor to a government position was seen after a bit as the first of many soon to be actors and actresses taking up roles in government. Was I getting the right person? I looked back up at Kitsune, who simply stared at me. Would she buy it? Was she going to believe it?

"That's pretty cool," she finally said, apparently in agreement. "So, he's still popular even in the future?"

"Yeah, he still is. Actually, considering how most of the movies in my time are political documentaries, it's nice to see some old action flicks now and then."

Well, that part was true, at least. In the 22nd century, most movies to be recently released end up as political documentaries discussing Communism and Capitalism. I have little to no idea on how movie makers can manage to fit political discussion into a movie about, say, university students travelling the world in search of hidden treasure and/or sex, but somehow it was doable. If I'll agree with the ultra left-wing politicians on one thing, it will be on the fact that most of our media actually _is_ propaganda. Back at home, I can't go half a block without seeing a recruitment advertisement or a television set airing a pro-Capitalist program.

"Oh, so you're awake?" a new voice spoke.

Haruka then came into the dining room. She looked the same as ever – dressed in her usual apron with a cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth.

"Good morning, ma'am" I greeted, standing up and kindly saluting. I know she doesn't have any sort of military rank, particularly above me, but it was the least I could do.

"I'm surprised you're up," she continued. "You were banged up pretty good the last we saw of you."

"Don't worry, ma'am, I'm perfectly fine" I said, reassuringly.

"Really?" Haruka asked, as she arched an eyebrow and temporarily took her cigarette from her mouth. "Whatever. I'm sure you know yourself better than I do."

"That I do, ma'am" I replied bluntly.

"Well, with that aside," she then began, after taking another whiff of her cigarette before continuing. "I suppose you can speak English?"

Much to my surprise, plus the others in the dining room, Haruka spoke her last sentence in English to me. It was interesting to hear her speak, actually. For a Japanese person, she spoke the language almost _perfectly_. No accent, no mispronunciations – just English, in the way it would be spoken.

Come to think about it, Haruka being able to speak English perfectly got me back into thinking how well trained she is. Not only could she handle a weapon, but she was at least bilingual. Was it just me, or were all the characteristics I have noticed in her so far just _perfectly _coincidental for some type of military operative?

"Yes, ma'am, that I can do, although it shouldn't be much a surprise" I replied.

Everybody in the dining room looked at me with added interest. Come to think about it, they never heard me speak in English just yet. So far, I either had microphones in my helmet translate for me, or I spoke directly in Japanese. Judging from the rather confused glances of the residents, they probably had no idea what I just said.

"That's an interesting accent – British?" Haruka asked as she listened to my voice.

"Yeah," I replied. "I lived in Great Britain since I was small and I still do, actually."

"That explains the accent," Haruka continued. "Your Japanese is pretty good."

"Oh, thank you ma'am, I'm of a mixed background – mostly Caucasian but part Japanese as well," I said with smile. "I figured it would be in my best interests to learn at least another language, and as you can possibly tell, it was a good idea. I actually wanted to learn German when I was younger, but that wouldn't have helped me here now, would it?"

I have to admit, I often succumbed to the guilty pleasure of talking about myself. Then again, all of this was barely the surface of Sergeant First Class J. Randall's personal history – a rather traumatic romp through hell and back and back again for shits and giggles, if I do say so myself.

"Um…hello?" Keitaro weakly interrupted. "Can the _both_ of you speak a language we can all understand, at least?"

"Sorry, got caught in the moment" I said, reverting back to Japanese. Come to think about it, did my accent carry into my Japanese just as well? Japanese with a British accent – that was quite fascinating.

"He was just saying how he was British" Haruka said, summarising our little tête-à-tête with a single sentence.

"Like James Bond?!" Kitsune asked, excited.

"Who?" I asked in response to Kitsune. _James Bond_? Who the hell is he?

"…never mind…"

I was left to my remaining state of confusion as Kitsune shrunk back into her chair. With her questions and wonderings about the future at least suppressed, Haruka continued on.

"So, you're fine? Good, we'll need your help."

"What sort of help?"

"We may have accepted that you're from the future and that you're marooned here for the time being, and that we can't let you walk around freely because of all the stuff you know," Haruka began. "But that does not excuse you from helping Hinata Sou while you're staying here."

Is she implying what I _think_ she's implying? For some reason, I conjured up an image of myself wearing an apron much like the one Haruka has, walking around with a tray of tea and serving customers, smiling and laughing and saying things like _'Have a nice day, sir!'_ or _'Enjoy your tea, miss!'_

I cringed at that thought. I _did not_ serve eight years in the military, fought all over the Ural Mountains for a year-and-a-half through snow, wind, and artillery bombardments and the other year-and-a-half all throughout the rest of Africa, Central Europe, and dozens of other places, killed hundreds of Bloc soldiers in a multitude of fronts and battlefields – and survived all of them – only to be serving tea at this time.

"What sort of help are you implying?" I inquired, choosing my words carefully.

"For one, repairing all the damage you caused" Naru said, interrupting Haruka.

"Damage that _I _caused?" I scoffed. "Well, that's a bit cruel now, don't you think? I didn't even do half of it."

"But you_ did_ do half of it" Keitaro piped up. I shot him a glare, and he noticeably grimaced and tried to put as much distance between himself and me while staying in his chair.

"What we mean is, all the damage you caused _directly_," Haruka explained. "All the walls you shot at, the bullet holes, _my door_…"

Oh, so they were talking about that - collateral damage, perhaps? If Commonwealth soldiers failed completely in one aspect, it was limiting that type of damage. Every other place we ended up at, we almost always smashed the place up and left it in smouldering ruins when we left. It was quite funny – we walked out of these places with a general idea that we liberated the people, but walked out amidst ruined buildings and rubble that once consisted of a poor family's house. More chances than naught, it was our own bombers or artillery that demolished their house in the first place.

"Alright, I accept, I'll help clean up the damage" I said in agreement to their terms.

"Good," Haruka said. "After that, you should at least help my nephew clean the inn every often as well."

Fair enough. There wasn't any way I could argue otherwise. If I help clean the building, I suppose I had a place to stay at. It was a two-way deal that would benefit all sides. Well, not for me, since cleaning was the pits.

"Do you have any clothes you can wear? That suit isn't exactly conspicuous." Haruka commented at my armour. Of course, it didn't look like anything they've ever seen before. If I wanted to stay low, I needed something else a bit 'normal' at least.

"Don't worry about it - I've got some stuff under the suit that shouldn't raise too much attention. I just need to get this stuff off first."

I made my way back to the room I woke up in. Turns out, it was located in between Kitsune and Keitaro's room. Everybody in the kitchen followed me and kept a good eye on me as I prepared to remove my armour.

The Commonwealth's standard combat uniforms consisted of many parts and layers. It wasn't complex or overly difficult, but the sheer volume of crap we wore made the process of disrobing rather tricky and a bit like completing a jigsaw puzzle. I started with my armoured plating. The thick black plates of nanomaterial armour covered my upper torso, my forearms, the sides of my shoulders, knees, shins, and all the vital areas. The plates were strapped into place and were sealed onto junction points on my outer soft armour to ensure they'd stay in place despite the punishment we'd receive.

After removing all the armoured plating, I was left to the outer layer of soft armour. The soft armour was exactly as it sounded and comprised of the rest of our major suited armour. The pixels of varying size that made up the digital camouflage pattern were mixtures of light and dark greys, blacks, and whites – the near standard urban-style camouflage pattern for the Commonwealth. The soft armour, although impossible to tell from the outside, was actually a thin sealed layer that held special oils with suspended nanomachines that would bond together on impact or when an impact is imminent and form a layer of temporary armoured plating – liquid armour, the last I heard. That way, for all the other parts of our body not protected by our main armoured plating, the soft armour was light, manoeuvrable, and could protect us quite well on the battlefield. There were two parts to it, the upper torso and everything else below the waist. With my chest plating now removed, several suit seals were now uncovered and were operable. I rotated the seals and felt the suit depressurise. With that done, I opened it up from the front and removed the first half of the soft armour. The second half was a bit trickier, due to the fact that our boots were also fixed onto the suit. A brief flick of the quick-release seals and switches allowed me to remove my boots with ease, followed by the lower half of my combat suit.

Underneath that was the climate suit, a thin body glove that regulated our body temperatures for whatever conditions we were fighting in. It used a system of nanomachines that would change their internal temperatures to warm or cool down our bodies. There wasn't much to it – I simply opened up the straps and slid out of the glove. After the long and arduous process of removing my armour, I was rewarded with being stripped down to my basic fatigues. The basic Commonwealth military fatigues are comprised of a rather primitive white t-shirt and a set of trousers patterned in the same camouflage pattern as my soft armour. While I didn't technically have 'shoes', per se, I was wearing the standard issue high-mobility, basic military footwear. It was more of a reinforced sock with a set of treads on the bottom of the foot, but it was lightweight and accomplished its rather minimal purpose quite well regardless. It could slip into our boots easily and still allow for a great amount of mobility.

I took a moment to stretch my tired muscles. I've worn that same suit for the better part of eight weeks non-stop and taking it off now only reminds me of how heavy all of it actually was. With my armour removed, I felt significantly lighter. Hell, I was feeling so light I figure I could run fifty long laps in record time without breaking a sweat.

The residents eyed me curiously. Of course they would – I looked almost completely different without my armour. Commonwealth soldiers were akin to robots or machines on the battlefield, all because of the armour. It made us look a hundred pounds heavier, a foot-and-a-half taller, and easily more threatening and less human to our enemies. Without the armour, most Commonwealth soldiers were either lanky teenagers fresh out of high school, or medium built, mid-twenties to thirty-something year old men. I existed somewhere in the latter, but my physical profile was probably a tad bit smaller than the other soldiers of that category.

In the end, being without my armour made me the most uninspiring and most generic person most would ever meet – an average Joe Blow from down the street, technically speaking.

"Alright, I'm ready," I said to Haruka. "And everybody, please don't touch my weapons or equipment while I'm out, okay?"

There was a slight nod of agreement amongst the other residents. I noticed it the most in Su. While I didn't want anybody poking around with my gear, I figure she'd do it anyways. With that aside, I followed Haruka out of the building. I didn't see where the others went to, but I figure they'd stay in the building. It wasn't my concern – my primary one was about the amount of damage I'd have to repair.

"We have some spare wood and tools in the back of the teahouse" Haruka explained as we approached the building.

Turns out, I _did_ do a fair bit of damage. The doorframe was completely smashed away, more so than I last remember. Of course, it was a spur of the moment sort of decision, and in those times, certain details escape the human mind. There were also several ruined patches and sections on the side of the building, courtesy of the big Mecha-Tama I had fought the other night, and if I had to guess, I'd have to repair those as well.

I wasn't much of a repairman, but I knew how to make basic repairs. After showing me to the wood and tools, Haruka left me to do my work. I picked up the pieces of wood and began nailing them into place. I had a whole bunch of them lying on the ground next to me. The small, metal pieces were so damn primitive. In a way, I can't even begin to imagine how people used to use them to hold things together. In the 22nd century, nanite sealing pastes were far more prevalent and much more efficient to use. A small colony of specialised nanomachines would be wiped over top of the needed area and whatever needs to be attached is simple attached. After that, the nanites would make bonds between the atoms of the material and keep the pieces together.

I kept hammering at the nails. Seriously, how the _hell_ are these things supposed to keep parts together? Apply enough movement and pressure on the nailed pieces and the whole thing could be lifted away. Hell, I slammed myself through the door and it broke off quite easily. Nanite pastes would hold on and self-repair where needed.

Well, I couldn't blame the nails, at least. It would be another century before nanite pastes would find their way into use.

I continued my work for what seemed like the better part of an hour or two. If I had to guess, the teahouse must have been closed today, due to the lack of customers. The sly thought of the business not doing well crossed my mind for a moment, and then passed as I continued my work. When I finished, I stood back and admired my handiwork. It wasn't too bad, actually, especially since I had to do it with my bare hands and with primitive tools.

My goodness, was high technology going to be my downfall, or what?

"Finished?" Haruka walked out of the teahouse and looked over my work.

"Not bad, isn't it?"

"Good, now fix the holes in my wall."

I groaned as I moved the materials and resumed my work, this time on the hole the smaller Mecha-Tamas made as they broke into the teahouse before. I nailed in place several smaller planks of wood, covering the wide gaping maw in the wall. It wasn't hard to do, easier, actually, than having to meticulously nail parts together for the doorframe. I was almost done within a few minutes, actually.

"So, what unit are you from?" Haruka asked while I worked.

I stopped for a moment and looked back at her. The memories of the interrogation flashed through my head, remembering how they continued to ask what my unit was.

"Okay let me rephrase that," Haruka said, correcting her question. "What sort of unit are you from? I'm not asking _what_ unit you're from specifically."

What sort of unit? I suppose I could answer that. My regiment was the 1st Mechanised Light Calvary Regiment. The insignia wasn't patterned on my fatigues, but it was printed on my left shoulder plate, and was also tattooed to my right bicep, but nobody here knew about _that_. Hell, half of my _squad_ didn't know about that tattoo – the result of a bet I was most unfortunate to take part in, but never mind that.

The symbol for my regiment was an ironclad horse standing high on its rear legs in front of a shield, and the ornate number '1' beneath the horse. The term _mechanised light calvary _was simply, a fancier way of saying _mechanised infantry_. The uses for mechanised infantry were exploited quite well by the Commonwealth in The War. Because we had vehicular support, we were fast, well armoured, and well armed. In addition to providing support on the field for the general infantry, our light calvary status often had us selected to be used as reconnaissance, with the intent of finding the enemy. Also fitting onto our list of duties were skirmishing and raids, to be done with the intentions either of demoralising the opponent or softening up their lines for when the bulk of the attack force makes it in. Our services were in demand quite a bit in The War, actually. On every front and in every condition and situation, we hit the Bloc forces first, faster and harder.

"Technically speaking, I fall into the category of mechanised infantry" I explained, simplifying the details of my unit.

"Armoured personnel carriers for you, then?" Haruka asked.

"Yeah, although we operate with _other_ types of vehicles."

My regiment used a decent supply of vehicles. The other day, just before the time travel snafus, my squad and all the others were using the M350 'Rhino' armoured personnel carrier, a large, blocky vehicle that was well armoured and capable of transporting soldiers out onto the battlefield with great speed and safety. It was the backbone of most ground related operations, due to the fact it was a modular vehicle, able to have parts swapped out at base for whatever the operation needed. The modifications included extra armour, greater storage space for up to two or three squads, and even weaponry that would allow it to return punishment in the form of 60mm autocannons and racks filled with hard hitting antitank rockets. Those were but some of the things a Rhino APC could be equipped with.

The _other_ vehicles included light tanks, fast attack vehicles, as well as the iconic Walkers. I held the detail about the Walkers to myself. Haruka didn't need to know about the twelve metre bipedal tanks just yet.

Hell, she didn't need to know about them, period.

"Funny, I would have figured you for Special Forces or something" Haruka commented, much to my amusement.

I was amused, mainly because the definition of 'Special Forces' had changed a fair bit over the course of a century and a half. By default, any rare number of soldiers saying how they wanted to become a Special Forces operator would have to be either incredibility stupid or fresh out of boot – just another way of saying 'stupid', actually. Of course, the long list of stories and truths about the infamous Commonwealth SpecWar operators were tales for another time. Hell, I don't even know much about _them_ anyways. Anybody who does is more likely to end up in front of the North American Trans-Continental monorail on a busy day. That point was interesting, because there actually have been, so I've heard, anyways.

"No, I'm mechanised infantry only. What makes you say that even?" I asked her, while continuing my work of boarding up the holes in the wall.

"I'm not sure," Haruka replied, leaning back in her seat. "You look and act like one, to me, at least."

I suppose that was true. My hair was short, but there was still a certain amount of it on my head, much longer than what 20th century military regulations would have possibly allowed. The short strains of hair were an undetermined dark colour, as though my genetics were confused as to whether it should have been straight black or simply chestnut coloured. The length was all due to the nanites watching for lice or other problems. As a result, Commonwealth soldiers could keep their hair without any negative side affects. As for how I acted…that was an interesting point. I suppose I was a bit more on the open side, but I suppose I could be one hell of a hard ass when I wanted to – and I've certainly done that before.

Then again, after serving with Ostergard as my right hand man for about three years and leading 2nd Squad and the usual assortment of screwballs and idiots, I suppose I have gotten soft while not in the fray.

"Believe me, I'm just a grunt," I said to Haruka. "A more intelligent grunt, but yeah, just a grunt."

"I've got a question for you, actually," I spoke up shortly afterwards, while keeping up with my work. "What are _you_ - military or paramilitary?"

Haruka looked at me as though I said something stupid. Her glance then turned into amusement.

"I mistake you for Special Forces, and you mistake me for somebody in the military?"

"Well, let's see," I said, counting down the things I observed about her. "You're unnaturally calm in any sort of dangerous situation, like me holding your nephew at gunpoint and the attack by the Mecha-Tamas the other night. You seem to be at least bilingual and while I might be wrong, I suspect you can speak more languages than just English.

"And on top of that, you can also handle a firearm rather well. Rather ideal qualifications for some type of highly trained operator."

I eagerly awaited her answer. She looked at me with a calm gaze that was impossible to decipher. There was something about that look, something that suggested she was professional and highly skilled. That same look is quite intriguing, actually. I'll even have to admit, that look made Haruka look stunningly gorgeous. While I was limited thanks to the aforementioned nanites, that same air gave a very sexy and mysterious attribute to Haruka. It was a very confident and immovable air to her that I was certainly most fascinated with.

"I'm just naturally calm," she eventually replied. "It's better to walk into anything confident rather than screaming, like Keitaro, for example. The languages? I picked up a few when I travelled around for a bit."

I guess that made sense. Not everybody had to be former-military to have those.

"What about the training with firearms, then?"

Haruka shrugged.

"A girl needs to protect herself, right?"

I suppose. It was the same rationale that inspired my younger sister to buy a firearm. At least, I hope so.

"Sorry about all the questions. I just thought of you as military or related."

"Believe me, I'm just a teahouse manager," Haruka said, smiling. "A teahouse manager that happens to be highly skilled with various weapons, but yeah, just an owner and operator of a teahouse."

Her last explanation was just soaked with irony, an exact mirror of what I said. Well, I'm just a grunt, and she's just a teahouse manager. It was as simple as that.

My work continued along. I boarded up the holes, and went back into the inn to fix whatever damage was there. It wasn't hard but rather, it was _boring_ as hell. Despite the nanites keeping me awake, I found it was tempting to fall over and sleep. I took a short break and ate lunch with the others before going back to work, boarding up bullet holes and fixing whatever needed to be fixed. Trying to describe all of that would be like trying to write a book about my day-to-day routine outside of war – it's merely one repetitive and indescribable act over and over again.

If I had to guess, it was around the evening when I had finished the last of my work. Repairing the damage inside Su's room was…problematic. Jungle warfare was bad enough, but trying to fix things inside a jungle was just stupid. I was grateful, since Su wasn't in her room then. If she were…well, I figure, I'd finally be able to leave her room the next day or two later.

I exited her room and stretched for a moment. My back was a little sore and my hands were stiff and almost impossible to move. The nanites would be onto them in moments, but for the moments before they get to work, I would at least have to cope with the feeling.

Dinner was a few hours ago, so I figured I'd head straight back to my room and grab a bit of my ration bar. It was tasteless and lacked the real feel of Shinobu's fine cooking, but it got rid of my hunger. With all the repairing out of the way, I had some time for myself. I laid back and stared at the ceiling, a wave of thoughts and questions running through my head.

Is this all for real? Was I really here?

I couldn't dispute that question. Every other moment I am here I keep telling myself the answer. I _am_ here. This isn't some sick Alice in Wonderland-esque dream or hallucination. I was really here, in another time, with people I don't know, in a world I know nothing about.

When will I get back to my era? When will I go back to fighting the war I spent my last three years fighting?

As far as the questions went, I was relieved, somewhat. Being away from it meant I had some time to rest and recollect myself. It was like a form of leave, I suppose. If so, there was absolutely nothing wrong with it, actually.

"Hey, Sergeant-san?" a voice spoke, outside my door. It sounded like Keitaro. I got up off the ground and up to the door.

"_Evenin'_" I replied.

"Aren't you going to eat dinner? Shinobu left a plate for you" Keitaro said, much to my surprise.

"Really? She made dinner for me?"

Shinobu was quite nice to have done that. Actually, 'quite nice' wasn't a method of describing her. Was her heart made of pure _gold_ or something? She was kind enough to make an extra portion for me, and even save it for me. In particular, it was me – somebody she wouldn't trust just yet, no doubt, but she still makes food for them.

"I'll get it later, I had some work to finish up with" I replied, getting my mind off of it. There was much a thing as too much charity, especially for a person like me.

"Uh, hey, Sergeant-san, can you help me?" Keitaro asked. "I need to clean the outdoor baths, and I need a bit of help getting the mops and stuff."

"Alright, sure. Let's go."

I was playing it nice. While the thought of having some rest would have been nice, I figured it was best to actually help him. I followed him to a storage closet and helped him carry several buckets, mops, and the whole collection of cleaning tools and chemicals. If I had to guess, he would have needed a pair of round trips to get it all, but with me helping, one journey was all it would need.

"I'm curious, how does somebody like you end up here?" I asked Keitaro. It was a genuine question from my end. A person like him, in a place like this – how does _that_ happen?

"I was looking for a place to stay after my parents kicked me out, and I came here," he said. "My grandmother left me the deeds to Hinata Sou, and now I'm the manager."

Well, that explains why he was the manager. Still, he seemed to be an extremely unlikely choice for a manager. I had more questions, however.

"Your parents kick you out?" I asked, trying to learn more about his situation. "How does that happen? Fed up with your lazy ass or what?"

"No, I kept failing my entrance exam."

As we travelled along, Keitaro told me a long, but somehow fascinating story of him failing his entrance exam into Tokyo University, not once, but _three times_. Somehow, the first two were enough to coerce Keitaro's parents to kick him out of their house, which would explain why somebody like him was here. But of course, failing three times in a row does make one ask a few other questions, and given his set of circumstances, a few others as well.

"Can't you just go to another school?" I asked him. "I mean, there's got to be at least _one_ you _can_ get into."

It was the first and most obvious question. Sure, I suppose Tokyo University was a prestigious school, the last I heard prior to Japan joining the Bloc, circa 2139, but was it worth all the apparent torture to make it in? With the type of logic I grew up with, I would say _no_, but what did Keitaro think?

"Well…" he started, somewhat hesitantly. "I have my…reasons."

"Oh?"

"Sergeant-san, have you ever…made a promise?" Keitaro then asked after a moment of silence between the two of us. "With a girl you…_loved_?"

I stopped mid stride, prompting him to halt as well. That question flashed several disturbing truths and memories through my head, relics and old pieces of history that once existed with me.

"No" I answered bluntly, in particular, to the 'love' part.

"That's why I'm here," Keitaro continued, going on to explain a story of how he made a promise to a girl he loved at a young age to meet with her at Tokyo University when the both grew up.

"Huh…" I replied simply, as the details of his tale ran through my head. "That's so…_sappy_."

Keitaro shot a rather confused, but irritated glare at me.

"What's wrong with it?" he demanded. "Haven't you ever loved somebody before?"

"I refuse to answer _that_" I answered, and continued to walk.

"Come on, haven't you?" Keitaro asked again, much to my annoyance.

"Trying to pull information like _that_ out of me only gets _you_ closer to having your _throat_ slit ear-to-ear by me late at night."

The two of us remained silence as we travelled along, buckets, mops, cleanings solutions, and all the rest in hand, towards the baths. Well of course, it would be quite hard to say anything else after I give a threat like that. Luckily, I wasn't much of a throat slitting person. It was always a little too messy to have to work with, and the timing made it relatively difficult to work with as well, and having a flopping and gurgling body rolling around on the floor made a bit too much noise for the intended purpose. I preferred driving the blade of my knife up into the brain from the side of the head, right where the bone was the thinnest. If I was lucky, I could hit the medulla oblongata, which would make the whole thing easier to work with.

But of course, that was just me. I was more protective about certain aspects of my life, and that included my past and anything related to that _word_.

When we got to the baths, we entered through the change rooms and stopped there for a moment. Keitaro dumped all the stuff he was carrying and prepared himself for the long and possibly tortuous task of cleaning the baths.

"We should mop it down first, and then do the rest."

"Got it, following your lead."

I picked up my bucket and mop and began to follow Keitaro into the baths. I then stopped dead in my tracks as I noticed something. It was a small, discarded piece of clothing. Picking it up for closer examination, I then realised it was a pair of _white cotton panties_. Well, what would this be doing lying around here like this…?

A horrifying thought went through my head. I got up and moved towards Keitaro, who had just opened the door leading into the outdoor baths.

"Wait up, Keitaro!" I shouted as I got closer. "I think there's somebody inside!"

Too late – there actually was. Worse, there were _six_ people inside. Even worse, they were all women and in varying degrees of undress, inside a warm and steaming hot springs with water slowly beading off at least three of their curvaceous bodies. Naru, Kitsune, Motoko, Su, Sarah, and Shinobu were in the hot springs, and so were Keitaro and me. Shinobu slowly cowered away and hid herself behind Kitsune, while Naru and Motoko in particular wore identical expressions of disbelief.

Silence was all that proceeded. Keitaro watched on in utter shock, completely incapable of words. Everybody else looked at us in confusion. I knew what would happen afterwards – that confusion will slowly turn into blind, raging anger, especially from Naru and Motoko. Memories of the first day quickly flashed by, and I knew it was inevitable. I needed to do something – something to save my life. And Keitaro's, I suppose, but first priorities are for me.

I dropped my mop and lifted the bucket. I flipped it around and slammed it onto Keitaro's head.

"Don't look! Don't look!"

With my hands on the sides of the bucket, I moved Keitaro aside and forced him to the ground. If I was lucky, I could at least make myself look better here, by trying to _prevent_ Keitaro form looking. I then direct my attention back at the other residents of Hinata Inn. With Keitaro out of the way, I suppose I could do something. Perhaps all I need to do is approach this diplomatically – instead of _gawking_, I should be _talking_, right?

"Listen, I understand how bad this looks, but let me _assure_ you, this was completely and _solely_ accidental-"

"_ZANGAKEN!"_

…screw diplomacy. Here, talking meant me having to stand still – otherwise known as an easy target.

There wasn't any other way to describe what just happened. I didn't stand a chance and neither did Keitaro. Motoko's attack sent the two of us flying back into the changing room and up against the wall. Keitaro sat up next to me, dazed and lost as he tried to figure out what happened after I covered his head with the bucket.

He didn't need to ask – Motoko and her sword hovering in front of us, as well as with a now pissed off Naru with her fist raised was a dead giveaway.

"You know what, Keitaro?" I asked sarcastically and somewhat out of humour. "You – are _brilliant_. You walk in and you don't even bother checking the area first. Is it any wonder _why_ this shit happens to you, and why it's now dragged me in?"

Keitaro looked at me in disbelief. We were this close to possible and painful death and I was saying that jokingly.

"Silence!" Motoko barked edging the tip of her sword closer. "I should have known! I don't expect much from Urashima, but _you_!"

She then directed her weapon at me. Oh, joy.

"_You_ are a vile and uncivilised barbarian, one that takes pleasure in hurting and ending the lives of others! And now you've brought your evils upon the residents and have even dared to peep at the bodies of innocent maidens!"

"Listen, I can explain…" I tried to say again.

"Explain _what?!_" Naru demanded as she stepped up with her fist shaking. "That you two just _happened_ to waltz in while we're all _bathing?!_"

"It was an accident - I swear, Narusegaw-!"

Keitaro, previously quiet and filled with fear then responded – with fear. That might have been the reason why he stood up so fast with a back straighter than a recruit on parade, followed by a sharp and apologetic bow. I fail to understand how it happened, but his bow somehow resulted in him landing his face in between Naru's not-insignificant cleavage, much to the surprise of Naru and the identical shock from the others.

"What the-! Keitaro, you _pervert!_"

Naru wound back her fist, and a split second later, the Hinata Inn manager was stuck in a roughly man-shaped impact crater in the wall, and then slowly crumbled to the ground moments later. It wasn't all that surprising, but I had to admit, there was something strangely comical about it.

"Alright, listen up," I said, getting back to my negotiations. While Motoko kept her sword at me, I stood up to hopefully be able to speak to them easier. "I can't speak for him, but for myself, I was dragged here to clean the baths. I have no intention of watching anybody at any time."

"That's your _excuse_?" Naru angrily clenched her fist, ready to strike at me.

I needed something to work with – fast. I kept with my usual argument or excuse about being here just to clean. It was the truth, but I was having a harder time conveying that.

"Come on, you've got to at least give the both of us the benefit of the doubt!"

"What doubt?!" Naru screamed. "Both of you walked in here while all of us are _bathing_!"

"Hey, it's not my fault," I said in my defence, turning my attention towards the unconscious and twitching figure of Keitaro. "This idiot didn't check the area before he entered. If anything, punish him, but not _me_. If anything, I'm the victim of shoddy intelligence, and that does not warrant an execution or even a court martial."

Rather, it warrants for the aforementioned intelligence officer to be shot - from my experience, at least.

"Uh…Naru-sempai?" Motoko tried to get Naru's attention, but Naru ignored her.

Strangely, there was a look of concern on Motoko's face. Was she concerned for Keitaro? Never mind, scratch that – there was not a chance in _hell_ she would be concerned for him. She tried desperately to talk to Naru, but Naru remained set on arguing with me, as did I against her.

"Not now Motoko!" Naru hastily said.

"Come on, you've got to listen, at least consider it!" I shot back.

"N-N-Naru-sempai?" Shinobu tried rather weakly to get through to Naru, but as it did with Motoko, her cries fell upon deaf ears.

Come to think about it, why are Motoko and Shinobu trying to talk to Naru for? Do they feel sympathy for Keitaro and me, and want to settle this whole accident peacefully? I have no doubt perhaps Shinobu would feel that way, but Motoko as well? What was going on?

"Do you expect us to believe all that?!" Naru demanded, getting more and more irate. "That the only two males here will _accidentally_ walk in on us bathing?!"

"Well, it is a possibility! Come on, shit happens, right? In my line of work, shit happens, _every-single-day!_"

While I spoke back, I caught a glance at Naru's eyes. Her dark hazel eyes were narrowed angrily, while her face was expressed in a snarl rivalling that of a ferocious animal. There was no doubt about it – Naru was simply vicious when agitated. Naru was really determined to argue back at me, and she was determined to prove her point. I couldn't help but admire her. People who would go that far in any conflict or struggle often make the best soldiers. It's like staring a lion in the face and hoping it won't take a swipe at your face.

My eyes then caught the looks on Sarah and Su's eyes as they watched on. Strangely, they were giggling, in an attempt to hold back a far greater fit of laughter. Wait, why would they be laughing? There wasn't that much that was funny about this, unless getting yelled at by Naru would be considered so. I then looked towards Kitsune. I then realised something was amiss. Her eyes were opened, and her cheeks carried a faint blush as she found the situation to be quite humorous as well.

What could those three possibly find funny about this? Something, I was wrong, I could feel it, but I couldn't pin it down. Ah, hell, I can figure out whatever goes wrong on the battlefield, but in a civilian area displaced over a century in the past and I'm stuck just wondering?

"Hey, Naru?"

"I'm a little _busy_, Kitsune!" Naru shouted in reply, without looking back at her friend.

"But, Naru…" Kitsune started, resisting the urge to laugh. "There's something you should know…"

"Not…_now!_"

"Come on Kitsune, let Naru be," I said, somewhat sarcastically. "As you can tell, we're trying to have a civilised argument over here."

"Oh, _sure_, you probably do want your argument to continue…" Sarah added with a peculiar tone of voice.

That caught my attention, as well as Naru's. What would Sarah mean by that?

"Naru? I don't know how to say this, but you're…" Kitsune tried to say, but was suddenly interrupted as Su came flying forward.

"You're butt naked, Naru!"

…wait-a-minute…_what?!_

I realised it the same time Naru did. She was, indeed, naked. Worse, she was standing in front of me, with every curve and every bit of her uncovered. Her towel was in a pile on the ground, located halfway between the still unconscious Keitaro and her. How the _hell_ did Naru's towel suddenly fall off? I remembered back to when Naru hit Keitaro. He had taken a bow, when his face landed in Naru's chest and from there she hit him. Therefore, Naru's towel must have come off the moment Keitaro's face left her cleavage.

How the _hell_ does that work?

It was the first answer to another pair of questions. First, how did I not notice Naru was naked? Well, come to think about it, the answer is quite obvious – the nanites. Suppressed sex drives meant having all natural responses towards nudity removed. Therefore, seeing a normal person was no different from seeing a naked person. That would take into account why I failed to notice why Naru was naked the entire time.

The next question – how the _hell_ did Naru not notice she was naked? Was she so deep in our argument that she, too, did not notice her condition?

I suppose that was possible.

Just then, I heard a groan right next to me, followed my movement. Keitaro was slowly getting up. He had gotten up to his feet within moments, rubbing his back and his head. It didn't take long for me to realise what would eventually happen to him.

"Ugh, what happened? Did a truck hit me or something-ack!"

Keitaro's face turned several shades of red as his eyes looked upon the completely naked form of Naru. Unlike me and the colony of nanites that inhabited my body, Keitaro had no means of being able to control his responses. In fact, he had no means of being able to prevent his responses form overreacting, period. Hence, his flailing arms, his screams, and his shocked facial expression.

"What the…?!" Naru eventually caught on, much to her horror. She frantically tried to cover herself amidst her embarrassed blushing.

"No wait, Narusegawa!"

"Keitaro, you _PERVERT!_"

_SMACK!_

Naru sent one of her fists into Keitaro. The force of the impact sent Keitaro flying out of the changing room, smashing through several walls in the process, not to any surprise.

"Huh…" I looked towards the hole in the wall and tried to find the again unconscious form of Keitaro. I found myself in humour for a moment afterwards as my thought regarding this entered my head.

"I'm curious, is there is a pool running here? A 'how many times does Keitaro get hammered by Naru' sort of thing? If so, count me in. I may be stuck in the wrong time era, but I might as well make some money off of it."

"A pool, eh?" Kitsune said to herself, thinking over the idea. "That is _brilliant_."

"Yeah, being on _my_ squad does have that effect," I replied. I then noticed again that Naru was still naked. I reached for the discarded towel and handed it to her. "Here you go, ma'am. Sorry it had to come to this."

Naru snatched the towel out of my hands and angrily put it back on.

"Sorry? _Sorry?!_" Motoko said as she jumped back into the game, her sword ready to strike. "Do you believe you can redeem yourself by just saying 'sorry'?!"

"That's _it_," Naru growled as she raised her fist yet again. "You…are…_dead!_"

Oh, boy, I didn't actually get out of this one in one piece. I slowly braced myself. If I was lucky, I shouldn't be injured _that_ badly.

"Hold up, hold up…"

Kitsune squeezed by Naru and Motoko and stood herself between myself and them.

"Come on, I think we should let Sarge go."

"_WHAT?!" _

"_WHAT?!" _

"_WHAT?!" _

…

Funny, the last cry of disbelief actually came from me. I should have said something else. But still, I'll have to admit, Kitsune saving my life? What was going on? Was I being spared?

"Hey, don't worry, I think it was an honest mistake," Kitsune explained. "It's not Sarge's fault, at least. We should let him go."

"But…but…Kitsune-san!" Motoko tried to argue back. "He came in with Urashima and peeped on us!"

"Don't worry about it, I don't think Sarge meant it" Kitsune continued, much to my relief. It was quite interesting listening to Kitsune. I noticed in particular how she was calling me 'Sarge'. What was going on?

"I think he was here just to help out and clean, like the _good_, and _well-disciplined_ soldier he is," Kitsune said, turning back to smile at me. She then directed me towards the door, much to Naru and Motoko's disagreement.

"Wait a second! Kitsune, you're not-?" Naru tried to talk to her foxy friend, but by then, Kitsune had pushed me out the door.

"Don't worry, Naru, I'll explain a bit. In the meantime, we should let Sarge go."

Naru stopped in her tracks, as did Motoko. I could tell they disagreed heavily with what Kitsune was suggesting and struggled to refrain themselves from attacking me. I looked back at everybody with a somewhat meek and reserved glance.

"Alright then. Well, have a good night everybody. I'm sorry things went foul like that. You won't see this out of me again."

The other residents remained silent at they looked back at me, not to my surprise.

"And you, Sarge," Kitsune then said. "_You_ have a _great_ night."

Kitsune smiled and winked at me as she closed the door. I was left starting at the door in complete confusion over what just happened. There was something about that look she gave me, something that shook me to my very core. There was something mischievous about it, yet something that warranted for my trust. I couldn't help but see the fox in new light. Then again, what was she implying? For what purpose did she decide to help me out?

My goodness, am I thinking too much about this?

I started to walk away from the entrance to the changing rooms, following the path that Keitaro had taken when he was hit by Naru. I found him crumbled in a pile, lodged somewhere between a wall and the floor. I wasn't sure if I should be surprised or not, but he was still breathing and certainly not dead. Christ, is this guy immortal or something? Does he have some sort of genetic mutation that allows him to survive an inordinate amount of punishment?

…

Again, I'm probably thinking _way_ too much.

"Hey, wake up, jackass," I said to him as I stood him up. "Wake up."

Keitaro babbled for a bit, clearly not recovering as fast as I was hoping. Well, at least he was partially conscious. I could work with that. I heaved him over my shoulder and carried him off, heading for his room. I was done for the night. I suppose the least I could do is drop him off in his room and then head back to mine.

"Ugh…my head…what's going on? Sergeant-san, is that you?"

"Yes, it is," I replied. By now, I had reached and entered his room. I dropped him into his futon and made sure he was lying with his face up. I couldn't exactly plop him with his face pointed down and accidentally suffocate him, right?

Hell, can I even do that?

"Oh, and congratulations, Keitaro - you almost got the two of us murdered just moments ago," I said to him as I stood up and prepared to leave. "If I can offer any advice, please check the baths before you decide to enter, especially if it is _me_ that's following you into them."

Much to my disappointment, he was already asleep. I'd have to tell him again probably tomorrow. If so, I would be willing to bet this won't be the last time today's incident occurred.

Seeing how there wasn't anything left for me to do, I went back to my room. Despite the unfurnished and empty look, it felt like home for me. It was probably because I had my gear stowed about the room, and to see that always reminded me of base camp. Sitting down on the futon, I reached for my weapons. It was a habit – I liked to check my weapons just before I slept. Much like how some people liked to read before they sleep, I field stripped my weapons, cleaned them, popped in a fresh magazine, and kept them ready for when I need them. As experience went, that was the proper thing to do.

My weapons checked out just fine. Setting them down beside me, I then curled up in the futon. I rested one hand on my sidearm and kept my rifle within arm's reach.

It's funny, actually. This whole situation reminds me of what happened before The War broke out. The Commonwealth ran various peacekeeping missions all throughout Europe and Asia, most of which I matured in. They were the same ones categorised under MOOTW, or _military operations other than war_. There was actually a significant amount of emphasis on the 'military operations' part of the acronym. Just because I was on a mission to give aid to a broken country, it didn't mean there were still hostiles somewhere out there just waiting to ambush the squads of Commonwealth soldiers. It never did hurt to be too careful.

I eventually drifted off to sleep. The sixth day had come to an end, and goodness knows what will happen on the seventh, the eighth, or however many other days I will remain here.

…yet another reason to keep my side arm's safety switched off.


End file.
